The Persian Campaign
by Baliansword
Summary: Sequel to 'The First Campaign', this story shows Alexander and Hephaestion's struggles in Persia. Includes Cassander's feelings of Hephaestion. Bagoas. slash in later chapters.
1. After the Siege

Title: "The Persian Campaign"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 1, "After the Siege"

A/N: I've been inspired to write a sequel to 'The First Campaign', and it was suggested. So here it goes. This starting chapter is taking place just after Alexander and his army have entered Babylon. If we are going by the movie it takes place just after Alexander's forces have entered Darius' harem of women, some have stayed there, and others have left. Enjoy and please review!

0

0

The general stood upright in a rigid posture, his arms crossed, but even though he was supposed to look menacing he didn't. Those soft blue eyes would never be fearful in appearance. Neither would his softened face and his simple smile. He might not even be meaning to, but his lips curved softly, and it made him look pleased to be in such a place. He looked around once more before the king put a hand on his shoulder and they started for another corridor.

So that man was also Alexander. It was not hard to see that they shared a bond as they walked away. The Macedonian men seemed to note it with averted eyes as they continued feasting on the luxuries before them. There was but one man that looked up as they left, watched closely as Alexander and the darker haired one left. There was a struggle in his eyes, his emotions fighting one another. He wanted first to be angry, then to be glad, and then even envious.

This man was unknown to the Persian as well. But from looking at him he knew he was also one of Alexander's the Great's generals. However he could also see that he lacked the beauty of the man Alexander had left with. This was not to say that he was ugly, but his beauty was more of a man's beauty. His eyes were dark, and not as soft, and they held not as much of his soul. His face was thinner, stronger, but not as heavenly to look at. His hair was a lighter brown, not as well cared for, and lacked the same shine. Yet he was still a beauty to behold compared to all that surrounded him.

Bagoas watched him as he laughed to one of his companions that was holding one of Darius' concubines to him. She sat on his leg, kissing at his neck and face disgracefully. Bagoas had never loved Darius and he had never been that fond of him as a lover. Yet as a leader he had respected him and until his king was dead he would still be his king. He'd not participate in such foolishness as the women around him did. It was his job to watch them when Darius was not around but he knew that if he told his king he could not control them, the king would understand. Understanding would lead to another night of warming the king's bed, which he never had been fond of, but it would matter not if he kept his life. Had Darius been here now he knew he might be the only one to leave this room alive again.

But where had the golden haired king of Macedonia gone to with his friend? Bagoas looked around but knew not where they had gone. Yet it was clear to see that this other one, who did not react to the kisses of a concubine, wanted to know as well. Bagoas wondered what odd relationship these three had. Did Alexander have his generals warm his bed with the lack of eunuchs? It was something that he would have to research, for he wanted to know. But for now he turned and left the room, trying to be noticed by no one.

0

0

0

Hephaestion entered the room, taking everything in as he did so. The room could have held the entire left legion if it were necessary. Alexander didn't seem to notice Hephaestion's pause, and just went to the bed, where he fell down on his back. The king looked up at the ceiling, marveling at the swinging vision of Darius. It was a beautiful image but he had to laugh, for Darius was no longer the king of Persia, he was.

Alexander then got up from the bed and went to a door. He opened it and walked into the small closet that was hidden in the corner of the room. It was grand, but it was not Darius' entire wardrobe. This was merely a small fraction of the riches he kept here. Alexander stepped inside and reached for a silken Persian robe. He pulled it down and looked at it for a moment.

The colors were richer than any Alexander had seen in his journeys. This robe alone was a dark red for base, but golden details and dark blue images set the robe apart from the rest. Alexander left the room, the robe draped over his arm, and stopped when he saw Hephaestion. The general still looked around the room, taking it all in no doubt. He wasn't interested in the gold, nor the glory, but whether or not there would be a way for intruders to enter.

When had he become so protective? Alexander wondered, thinking he'd been far less concerned when they were children. Somewhere along the way he'd become concerned with wines and lighting the camp at night, but now everything in this new world was something for him to ponder, to decide if it were safe or not. Alexander smiled and let a small laugh escape him before he could hold it back. This caused Hephaestion to turn his eyes upon him.

"You worry too much," Alexander said as he came closer to him. Hephaestion only smiled softly as Alexander reached out and ran a hand over his cheek. He then pulled a lock of his brown hair away from his face, and then left it behind his shoulder so that his neck was visible.

"Perhaps you worry too little," Hephaestion replied as Alexander closed the rest of the space between them. Before more words could be spoken Alexander put his lips to Hephaestion's and kissed him lightly. Behind closed doors he was unafraid to show love and to be loved. When the kiss broke, for it was only a short one, Alexander stepped away.

"I need a bath," he said. He had already turned and was on his way to find the bathing room, which was conveniently just beside the king's rooms. There was even a passage that led from the bedroom to it. Since he'd already turn he did not see Hephaestion's smile fade while he looked away.

Hephaestion left the room quietly and Alexander knew nothing of his absence before he had turned back. Alexander had noticed he'd not followed him but did not know that he'd been the cause of his leaving. Sighing he turned back and went to find a way to fill the bath. It did not take him but a moment to find the help he needed. As he opened the door to the room there was Stateira, the princess he'd just agreed to let remain that, and in the palace. Her chaperone was also with her, but behind them was a younger boy that Alexander had not seen before.

"Great King," Stateira spoke, her eyes not leveling with Alexander's. "As gratitude for you kindness, I would like to gift unto you this slave."

She stepped back and before Alexander could say a word she walked away with her chaperone. Alexander watched her go but then turned his eyes to the Persian in front of him. After a moment he recognized those dark eyes, and that sculpted face, which was better looking than all of Darius' concubines combined. He'd been amongst those women, which would make him too a courtesan. Alexander turned and reentered the room and the boy followed. He could be no more than what, eighteen?

"What is your name," Alexander asked, turning once they'd reached the center of the room. The boy stopped as well. He kept his eyes on the floor like slaves were trained to do, but Alexander could see that was not what he was. He was too graceful, he'd heard him walk, and there was nothing that was beaten or broken about him. He'd been something more to Darius, not just a boy to fill his bed when he was tired of the women he kept.

"Bagoas," was the soft reply that came from his lips. Alexander found himself looking him over once again. He was built to be thin, tall, and graceful. It was easy to see that if the proper breeding had not done such he'd been trained to be such things all his life. Alexander reached out suddenly, sick of those that would not look at him, and lifted the Persian's chin. Eyes darker than even his own met with his.

"What are you Bagoas?"

"Yours."

Alexander sighed. That was not what he had meant but this boy knew what to say to please a master. It was not the thought of slaves that annoyed Alexander for he'd grown up with them his entire life. There was something else he hated above that. He hated that none would speak their mind to him, except for Hephaestion, who would only do so if it were asked of him. Alexander could not even get him mad enough to yell at him.

"Make me a bath," Alexander said weakly as he turned away from Bagoas. The Persian stared at him, he could sense it, before he left and went to make the bath Alexander has asked for. He sat down on the edge of his new bed for a moment and wondered where Hephaestion had gone. Before he knew it the Persian had come back though, telling him his bath was ready.

0

0

0

_Not meant for him. _That was what he thought when he saw Hephaestion in the stables. There were a great many horses here, some Persian, some Arabian, but most were now those that belonged to Alexander and his army. Hephaestion did not need to be here amongst the animals though. He deserved to be far away from Persia even. It would have been better had he never met Alexander. But he was in Persia, following Alexander's dream, and he was in the stable brushing a horse.

Cassander picked up a brush and went to join him. He approached quietly but already the other was aware of his presence. Perhaps he was not the best in a battle, because he'd protect Alexander and everyone but himself, but Cassander had to admit that he had the ears of a fox. Cassander stood on the other side of the horse and began brushing at the neck. Hephaestion only threw him a confused glare before continuing with his side.

"Fight," Cassander asked after a moment. He still could not figure out why he cared about Hephaestion. He had to remind himself that he didn't like him. He hated him even. But he wanted to shield him from Alexander's pains. For as brilliant as he was on a battlefield, Alexander knew nothing of how to treat the ones around you, especially the one that you loved.

"No, but don't ask for any favors," Hephaestion said bitterly. Cassander raised a brow. So there had been no fight but there had clearly been some upsetting factor between the two. Another one of Alexander's careless actions no doubt. Perhaps Hephaestion knew that Alexander had excepted that Persian eunuch that had been offered to him. But if he didn't Cassander wasn't going to tell him, but hoped to be near when he did find out.

"I wasn't here to."

"What were you here to do," Hephaestion asked as he tossed the horse brush aside and began to retreat. Cassander rolled his eyes, tossed his brush as well, and then followed Hephaestion out of the stable.

"I actually wanted to kill you," he said bitterly, but it forced Hephaestion to stop, and spin around even to face him. It struck a nerve, for he was angry. But Cassander wasn't going to stop now. "Yes, stab you in the back, or maybe the side. I wasn't sure. Figured that I would decide once I surprised you from behind."

"Cassander, leave me alone."

"Fine," Cassander said as Hephaestion began to leave. "I wasn't here to kill you. Alexander has many looking for you, only problem is, they didn't know where to look. There are about ten Persians scattered around looking for you."

"You swear it?"

Cassander shrugged and reached to his side. He then pulled a dagger from his side. It had been lying around in the palace and no one seemed to know whom it belonged to. That meant that it belonged to him. Cassander tossed it to Hephaestion, who even caught it with a single hand.

"You can kill me," Cassander told him with the seriousness of a general and the playfulness of a child at the same time. Hephaestion glanced at the blade. His lips then turned up in a smile. He shook his head and tossed the blade back. Cassander caught it with a smile.

"Not worth the trouble," Hephaestion said as he turned and made his way back to the palace. Cassander watched him, the smile still on his face as he replaced the dagger at his waist. He then laughed quietly to himself.

"You're right," he said even though Hephaestion could no longer hear him. He glanced up and was still able to see Hephaestion's back as he grew smaller and smaller in the distance. "Killing me wouldn't kill your pain."


	2. A Persian Gift

Title: "The Persian Campaign"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 2, "A Persian Gift"

A/N: I hope that everyone is enjoying. Please review, it makes authors feel appreciated. If you are reviewing, thank you. It makes me feel appreciated. Thanks to Queen, for the idea to make a sequel, and for reviewing. K-thanks for your review.

0

0

0

Hephaestion entered the room in complete silence. Alexander was sprawled out on the bed. He sat up immediately when he heard Hephaestion entered. He expected him to come and lie beside him but instead Hephaestion paused in mid step and stared at Alexander. Alexander stood and came closer to Hephaestion, quickly closing the space between them.

"I was looking everywhere for you," Alexander told him but Hephaestion did not seem to listen. Instead he put a hand on Alexander's shoulder, feeling the Persian robe he wore. He then looked at Alexander, saw the thin black lines around his eyes. There was a long silence until Hephaestion found himself smiling. Alexander only placed a kiss on his forehead. "Why do you laugh at your king Hephaestion?"

"I haven't laughed yet," Hephaestion said but even as he did he began to laugh. He put a hand up to try and stop himself. He couldn't though. As he laughed Alexander could not help but smile. Hephaestion cleared his throat, and then stared in silence again. "It is just a change Alexander. A very…unsubtle change."

"Where were you?"

"I was at the stables."

"Why on earth were you there," Alexander asked as he drew him towards the bed. There was something different about him, something that Alexander could not place. It was written on his face, in his eyes, but he didn't know what it was. There was something about the way that Hephaestion looked away from him. His eyes held a pain that Alexander had not seen before, but knew he'd likely caused.

He put his hand to Hephaestion's cheek. Hephaestion glanced down at his hand before taking his wrist. Both stood in silence for a moment, inches from the bed and each other, but so far away from one another's soul. Alexander took his other hand and put it under Hephaestion's chin and lightly urged him to look up. Hephaestion did, meeting his eyes. Alexander's lips parted as if he would speak but no words would come.

"Phae," Alexander whispered. At the very utterance of the name Hephaestion's eyes averted away. Alexander didn't even glance in the same direction. He knew there was nothing to be seen there. Hephaestion waited a moment before turning his face back to Alexander. Immediately Alexander saw the tears he tried to hold back. "Hephaestion tell me what it is that bothers you, it has been in your eyes for days!"

"Alexander," he said before unconsciously biting his lower lip. He then pressed his lips to Alexander, kissing him fully on the mouth. He refused to cry in front of Alexander. He had to be strong, because if he weren't, then Alexander would not need him. Alexander needed to surround himself only with those that were like him, unfeeling.

In the instant that he began to slide the robe away from Alexander's tightened shoulders Alexander forgot about Hephaestion's tears. He became concerned with only the carnal desires that lay between them. Alexander continued to kiss Hephaestion as he slid the robe down his back. Hephaestion held the robe against Alexander's back for a moment, leaving it partially on Alexander's lower arms. Hephaestion then removed his hands from Alexander's side and let the robe slip off of his arms, falling to the floor. He put a hand on the back of Alexander's right thigh and the other behind his neck. Hephaestion, the stronger of the two even though it was not widely known, then threw Alexander back onto the bed.

Everything went black in Hephaestion's mind then. He kissed Alexander hard on the lips, which made Alexander gasp when Hephaestion moved away. He brought kisses to his neck, his shoulders, his chest, and his lower stomach. All the while he made sure to softly grind the lower half of his body against Alexander. Nothing made sense anymore and perhaps that was why everything felt so right.

Tonight he took Alexander, passionately holding him in a tender embrace as the two of them left the world they were in for another. Hephaestion let Alexander grab his hips and pull him deeper inside of him. His hands already clutching the sheets Hephaestion let out a pained gasp of air, turning his head as he did so, which rested against Alexander's cheek. Even through the veil of hair that tried to shield him from the sight, he saw dark eyes staring back at him.

0

0

0

He stared at the painted mural on the ceiling. For the first time he understood why it had been put there. It was for moments like these when you could neither get up nor be with the woken, or stay still and sleep. He continued to stare until the scene above him made his eyes blur. Only then did he glance to his left, noticing the dark ringlets of hair that fell over his shoulder. He reached over with his right hand and tossed the hair away from him.

He then sighed, and finally got off of the bed. He did not bother to dress or be modest. Instead he went and stood before the long silver strip that leaned against a wall to serve for a mirror. Reaching out, he touched his chest, and as soon as he had done so he pulled his hand away. He just stared at himself and wondered what it was that made him feel unwanted. As he stared at himself he felt as if his own eyes were burning him. Reaching over to a stand he picked up the dagger, which sat there and held it in front of him.

The silver of the blade reflected against the silver of the mirror, creating a silver streak of white on the opposite wall. He didn't notice it though. Instead he took the tip of the dagger and dug it under the piece of thick cord just above his navel. Without feeling a thing he cut the cord, and then put the blade back. Staring at himself in the mirror as he did so he pulled the cut end of the cord and watched as the string slowly pulled through each small hole that held his flesh together. Upon removing the stitches he watched as the skin slowly began to peel away again. Why didn't it hurt?

He put a hand over the wound, feeling the blood on the tips of his fingers. He lifted his hand then, looking away from the mirror, and just stared at his crimson fingers. After a moment he turned and saw the harem girl in his bed. She quickly rose and left the room, pulling a robe on as she did. He glanced down at the blood on his abdomen. Was this what she feared, or was it he?

He turned suddenly and grabbed the side of the mirror. Screaming as he did so he knocked it over. It crashed to the floor, crushing the wooden stand beside it as it did so. Turning in a blind furry he grabbed his clothes and threw them on. As he did the blood began to stain his chifton. It didn't matter though, nothing mattered in the end did it? Everything would end the same, as it had before. He had nothing to look ahead to and nothing waiting behind him. There was no future to seek and no past to remember.

He grabbed his sword, and put the dagger at his side, he then in a mad rush left the room. He ran down the hall, avoiding the stares of others. He couldn't even look at himself. Why should they look at him? When he looked at himself he saw nothing, transparency and a blur of himself that he knew would ever be equal. How could anyone else see something within him?

He ran until he could run no more. He fell back against a pillar and let himself slide to the stone floor of the balcony. Adrenaline raced through his veins, making up more of his blood even was anger, and a pain he'd try to hide for so long. He screamed as he looked up at the stars, and then took the dagger from his side, and held it to his abdomen. Suddenly his body shook and tears fell from his eyes. There was nothing left, and nothing to gain before him, but for some reason Cassander could not do the one thing that would end his pain.

0

0

0

He stopped, couldn't continue, and could only stare back at the Persian eyes that stared at him. Hephaestion put his hand against Alexander's chest as he tried to reach up to kiss him, shoving him back down. He then turned Alexander's head as he began to pull away from Alexander. Hephaestion grabbed the robe that still lay on the floor and threw it over himself hastily. He then looked at Alexander, who was still sprawled on the bed, shifting glances from one man to the other.

"Bagoas," Alexander said finally, "leave us."

Hephaestion watched in horror as the Persian nodded and swiftly made his exit. Still holding the robe, for it was all he could hold, for if he didn't he would likely fall to the floor. Alexander looked up at him as he slowly crawled off of the bed. He stood and took a stride toward Hephaestion but he stepped back. Hephaestion looked over his shoulder as the door shut, then turned back to Alexander. There was a glare there that Alexander had never seen, but it scared even him, conqueror of Persia.

"He's just a slave," Alexander said. As soon as he had he knew these were not the right words. Hephaestion shook his head, saying nothing but from where he stood Alexander could hear his heart breaking, and turned away. He left the room, slowing only to grab his discarded clothes, but he continued even when Alexander called out to him. Alexander tried to follow him but the door slammed and the sound ceased Alexander's movements. He couldn't follow, because he knew that what had just happened was his fault, and it was wrong beyond all reason.

0

0

0

He heard him coming down the hall before he heard his tears. So it had begun once again. There was a gift before you at times, and you wouldn't notice it, unless that gift was to disappear. Then you would want it back. Well Alexander had gotten it back once, so for him to disregard it again, it was an ironic fate the gods had cursed him with. Cassander smiled as he thought this, the pain becoming like a drug to him, and he laughed.

"Hephaestion," he called out just as Hephaestion had passed the balcony. He heard him slow and then eventually turn and come back. Cassander couldn't help but laugh. He knew the only secret that put Hephaestion in his control. Hephaestion stepped onto the balcony, not seeing him at first, but instead looking up at the stars. He then turned and looked down at Cassander, who still bled, his chifton now stained with blood and his hand dripping in it. Instantly he dropped down beside him.

"By gods Cassander," he said as he took the chifton in his hand and pressed it over Cassander's abdomen. He then took Cassander's bloodied hand and moved it away from the wound so he could press down harder. "What happened? Who did this?"

"I got it at the battle," Cassander whispered happily. The loss of blood was making him rather light headed. He did not complain though. This was the best he'd felt in the longest time. At least there was someone that could at least pretend to see him beside him now.

"That was days ago!"

"So it was."

Hephaestion pulled the chifton away from Cassander, and then ripped the one that Cassander wore. For the first time he saw the wound. He couldn't recall seeing Cassander in the medics tent, but he could see the holes from where the stitches had been. Hephaestion quickly put his chifton back to the wound and pressed firmly against it once more. He then saw the bloodied thin cord in Cassander's other hand. He took it from him, unwinding it from his fingers, and knew what it was. He then tossed it aside.

"Cassander," he said loudly as Cassander began to shut his eyes. "How long has it been bleeding?"

"Not long, long enough, I don't know. I opened it."

"Why," Hephaestion asked. He didn't expect an answer. Everything that Cassander had just said sounded as if he were in a state of bliss. Hephaestion put an arm around Cassander and pulled him up. Cassander leaned against him, limply, but laughed.

"Because I closed it, so I can open it."

"Are you trying to kill yourself?"

"Am I dying," Cassander responded with pure seriousness in his tone as Hephaestion practically drug him down the hall. Cassander put his hand over Hephaestion's, the one at his abdomen. The blood caused his hand to slide a little, but he could still feel Hephaestion, who seemed so real.

"You've drunk too much for sure."

"Oh," he replied with a sigh. "I had not yet noticed. Tell me Hephaestion, why do you wear Persian robes?"

"I will tell you if you live you fool."

Cassander frowned as Hephaestion pushed him into a room he did not recognize. Hephaestion put him down on a bed, laying him down. Cassander looked around the room and then laughed to himself. It was his room. He could tell by the fallen silver mirror and broken table. Hephaestion pressed the chifton against his cut, which surprisingly still did not hurt, and then put Cassander's own hand over it.

"Press," he ordered. "Don't stop either. I'm going to get the proper materials to close that with. Zeus knows no one else will be up at this hour."

"Can you get me a pitcher of wine as well," Cassander asked, still laughing madly. Hephaestion said nothing though. He left the room quickly, the Persian robe billowing at his ankles, but he was still beautiful. Cassander's head fell back against the pillow as he closed his eyes. Slowly, blackness came into his vision, and then he saw nothing.

Hephaestion returned within a few minutes. He sat down on the edge of the bed, placing the goblet of wine down on the heavy stand beside him, and then put a large leather bound pouch in front of him. Carefully he pulled the bloodied chifton away from Cassander's side, placing his hand lightly on the bed. Cassander moaned as he did this in his sleep but Hephaestion ignored him. Instead he poured water into the wound to try and clean it. He then went to work, threading a hooked needle. Slowly, but correctly, he began to stitch the wound. He glanced up when Cassander moaned again as he was finishing.

Hephaestion put a salve over the wound and then put a small cloth over that. He rose then, picking up his things, and left the room. Cassander opened his eyes as Hephaestion turned his back, and despite his desire to, could not call out to him. Instead, when the door shut he reached over for the goblet of wine, drinking it all before setting it back. He then lay back, thinking about the blue of Hephaestion's eyes. No, he wasn't meant for Alexander. Alexander didn't understand him. Only another broken soul could understand Hephaestion, which was why Cassander understood him perfectly.


	3. Secret Threads

Title: "The Persian Campaign"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 3, "Secret Threads"

Warning: Sexual content in this chapter.

A/N: Hope everyone is enjoying so far. Thanks for reading and reviewing. If you haven't reviewed, I smile at you and ask you to. For anyone worrying about Hephaestion and Cassander getting too close, do not fear. Nothing can come between Hephaestion and Alexander in the end. For now –we'll see.

0

0

0

It hurt more when he woke up but he still managed to sit up and push himself away from the bed. What time was it? He glanced out to the balcony and saw the just darkening sky. He turned, saw a goblet of wine on the table, and brought it to his lips. He quickly threw on something presentable, a black Macedonian attire which draped over a shoulder, and ran a hand through his hair. He then left the room, reaching back for the goblet and taking it with him. As he stepped into the hall he could already hear the sounds of the feast. It was like Alexander to celebrate a victory for days at a time.

Cassander entered the room. No one seemed to care that he'd been absent for an entire day. Many of them had been in the arms of new lovers as well. They didn't need to know about where he was, or what had happened to him. Cassander figured that after a week, or two, someone would have come to find him. But he then felt the golden goblet, heavy in his hand, and looked down. Someone already had though, hadn't they?

He looked up, scanning the room. First he saw Alexander, who was already becoming tipsy on his legs. The king called out something, some random toast, and then sat back down. Cassander couldn't help but glare at the eunuch that came and stood next to him. Barbarians, they all were. That one was no different. Alexander was a fool to let him so close, and was a fool to push the one that should be at his side away. Hephaestion wasn't at his side, wasn't near at all in fact. Cassander turned and looked around the room again but was interrupted by the filling of his glass. He glanced back to the Persian girl who then seemed to dance away, but he soon was back to thinking about Hephaestion.

After a moment he saw him. Hephaestion's eyes gave him away when nothing else about him did. He wore a Persian robe and had lined his eyes with black. A golden band held his hair back, and Cassander knew well what had happened. Fancy things were not to his taste, but it didn't matter what he liked when Alexander dressed him. Cassander watched him for a moment, watched as he let his cup be refilled, and then as he brought it to his lips. He sipped at the wine, but Cassander knew it was not his first cup. Hephaestion then turned his back, and Cassander could see each muscle there ripple, even though he should have been able to see nothing. He glanced at Cleitus, who was drunk beyond reason, who was telling a Persian concubine about what it was like to be under the command of the son of a god.

Cassander let his eyes roll, knowing no one would notice as he walked by. Alexander was not the son of a god. He was just a man. Cassander had long ago stopped believing the tale, even though as children, all the others did. He then looked at Hephaestion's sculpted face as he turned and looked over his shoulder. Cassander did not believe in Alexander's myth, but he did believe in Hephaestion's. Only a god could possess such eyes and such a presence. And only a god would be able to put up with Alexander's neglect.

He would never say that Hephaestion was a god. He wouldn't say it because if Hephaestion were a god his heart wouldn't break so. But he would admit that against all other men Hephaestion was the divinest of them all. Cassander paused in his stride as Hephaestion turned and slowly came toward him. Yes, he was a divinity that could make even the great Aphrodite yearn to be better looking, and Athene would wish that she were as wise. Hephaestion may not be a god, but he was the only man in the world that could compete with them, and he was the only man in the world that would win.

Hephaestion then turned and spotted Cassander. His lips began to turn up in a smile but Cassander did not return such a look. Instead he kept his jaw tight and looked away, searching for another to speak with. He did not feel like being around Hephaestion now, did not feel like masking himself, but at the same time he didn't feel like revealing anything to the man. The strangest of feelings came over him when Hephaestion was near, feeling welled up inside of him that he'd not known could be. Before he could find somewhere to disappear to Hephaestion approached though. There was no hiding now.

"Cassander," Hephaestion said lightly as he crossed the room to stand beside him. He brought his wine to his lips, his cerulean eyes then looked another way. He continued to look away, to where Alexander sat, until he lowered the goblet. His attention then turned back to Cassander, his eyes no longer searched for others, for he looked only at Cassander now.

"Did you tell them," Cassander asked acidly. He did not pretend to be Hephaestion's friend, for he wasn't. They had never been friends and never would be. As children they had learned to hate one another, and in doing so Cassander felt that he'd come to hate his best ally, the one just like himself. Cassander raised his goblet to his lips and drank greedily. Hephaestion blinked, hurt by the bitterness in Cassander's voice, and looked away. He took a silent breath before answering, trying to hide his nervousness and hurt from Cassander, but Cassander knew what he inflicted upon others. He knew all too well what his bitterness did to those around him, especially Hephaestion.

"No." Hephaestion then glanced over at him again, his eyes glittering from the light of the flames that danced around the room. He then took another sip of wine before he began to leave. It was apparent to him that Cassander no longer required his company. Stepping away he heard Cassander let out a small _tsk_ing noise, which caused him to look over his shoulder.

"Running away," Cassander asked mischievously. He raised an eyebrow and took another sip of wine, noting to himself that he would need more soon. Yet he didn't look for a serving girl. Instead he continued to raise an eyebrow to Hephaestion, his eyes all the while testing him, daring him to come back. After a second's thought Hephaestion turned back and took his place at Cassander's side once more.

"I didn't think so," Cassander teased. He then moved slightly so that he could see Alexander and the Persian next to him. Hephaestion followed his glance. The pain was written on his face, his lips forming a frown, and his body seemed to sag as the weight of the world was placed on his shoulders. Not knowing what to say Cassander said the first thing that came to his mind. "He really is an interesting whore isn't he?"

"Which one," Hephaestion asked before he knew the thought had escaped his head. He froze immediately and glanced fearfully over at Cassander. Cassander just tried to stifle his laugh, bringing the goblet again to his lips, draining his wine.

"Both."

"I didn't mean that," he quickly made known. Before more could be said a girl came and refilled his glass even though he had half left. Cassander eagerly accepted more, and began drinking once more.

"Unquestionably you meant it. I was thinking of the Persian though. There is something about him that I don't trust." Hephaestion did not reply, just sipped his wine. Cassander felt like being edgy, just to get his attention once more, so he made a jab as he always did. It may hurt Hephaestion he knew, but it was true, and necessary for him to know. "He'll take your place in Alexander's bed soon. I hear their whores are expertly trained."

"You would know," Hephaestion shot back resentfully.

Cassander smiled, glancing over at Hephaestion. Well, so he knew then. It wasn't like Cassander to turn down the favors of a woman after a long surge of fighting and being alone in a camp of soldiers. The only thing that surprised him was that Hephaestion knew about his earlier involvement with one of Darius' concubines, who just so happened to be expertly trained, and looking back on it he didn't complain.

"She was just a girl," he replied though, with a laugh. Hephaestion calmly took another sip of wine. He then shook his head and glanced over at Cassander. If he wanted to play this game, he was in the perfect mood to cut back at him.

"I meant your mother."

Cassander's eyes suddenly met with his, his face was slightly reddened. Without hesitation he shoved Hephaestion with his free hand. Hephaestion recovered and then shoved him back. Only Hephaestion knew where to hit him to make it count. Pushing against his stitches Cassander let out a breath of pained air. He then brought the wine back to his lips and took a deep drink. Fighting Hephaestion at the moment not be the best idea.

"When did you become so merciless," he then asked Hephaestion.

"When you became to weak." Cassander laughed at this. He raised and eyebrow and shook his head. Lightly hitting Hephaestion's goblet with his he next took a drink.

"One thing," Cassander swore. "Do not ever think that you are stronger than I. Understand this," he said, pushing a finger into Hephaestion's chest. "You might be Alexander's lover, and his best known general, but without him you don't exist. You stand for nothing without Alexander. You don't even stand on your own feet. I am stronger than you in so many ways Hephaestion."

"Really, are you?"

"You cannot even imagine," Cassander said as he shoved Hephaestion back lightly. He then turned and marched away. Hephaestion watched him, watched as he slowed and took a concubine by the elbow, and led her out with him. It was interesting to him, how Cassander found himself only able to take a woman when he was angry at the world. But he couldn't truly begin to understand the problems Cassander faced involving such situations.

0

0

0

Cassander continued to thrust. His breath was heavy, his actions vigorous, but he couldn't satisfy his urge. The concubine beneath him didn't seem to notice though. She was concerned only in her own passions as she cried out, reaching her climax. Cassander thrust few more times into her before he cursed and abruptly removed himself from above her. He fell on his back, staring up at the ceiling. The woman beside him breathed heavily, but still managed to roll herself next to him, resting her head on his chest.

"Did you enjoy yourself," she asked him, her accent heavy.

"Get out," Cassander said, shoving her hand away as she tried to brush his cheek. She did as she was told, used to such things. She grabbed her simple garments from the floor and retreated quietly from the room. Cassander continued to lie on his back, raising an arm behind his head. He sighed, then cursed once more.

For three years now things had been different from him. It wasn't the women, for he still found himself attracted to many beauties. Not to mention he'd been perfectly able to satisfy their needs, letting them reach their climax, but he couldn't reach his own. After a moment he let his free hand slide beneath the sheet, knowing how completely pathetic it was. As soon as he'd done it, completed what should have been reached with the concubine, he withdrew his hand.

He put his clothing on and decided to go for a walk instead of sleep. It was late, but it didn't matter. He wanted to get the thoughts in his mind clear. He left the palace, entered the Persian gardens, and looked around. He stopped when he saw someone else there, lying on their back, staring up at the stars. Cassander silently watched for a moment before Hephaestion put a hand in the air and with a finger gestured for Cassander to proceed. Cassander sighed, he'd never be able to sneak up upon Hephaestion, and his failure aggravated him all the more.

Cassander lowered himself onto his back next to Hephaestion and gazed up at the stars. Once long ago someone had told them they were the eternal flames of great men. Aristotle had called them balls of gas. Either way, they were beautiful, and they never changed. They never felt, like he did, never felt pain, love, loss, joy, or insecurity. They just were. They never grew old, never died. The thought enraged him even more. He hated the stars, even though he was perfectly aware that they were inanimate objects.

"What's wrong," Hephaestion asked.

"You mean besides everything?"

"All right."

Cassander sighed. He knew that he wasn't going to tell Hephaestion. He couldn't tell him. It was ridiculous to think that Hephaestion would listen to him, not to mention not laugh at him. His private business was his own. He couldn't share it with anyone, not something so terrible. It would be absurd. He'd rather kill himself than say it out loud.

"I can't do it," he found himself saying.

"Do what," Hephaestion asked. He didn't look over at him, but continued to look at the night sky. Yet there was no hint of jesting in his voice. He just asked, truly not sure what Cassander was talking about. But his simplicity made Cassander comfortable, and he continued, even though he didn't want to.

"Get there."

"Get where?"

"I can't climax," he said in a sudden burst of quickness. He continued to speak, taking no breath, his anger spilling out. "I used to be able to. I could take a woman, please myself, and then maybe get to her. Now, I can only get her to scream. I can get to the peak, but then, nothing. I just cannot satisfy myself and the damnable gods are doing this to me for no reason!"

Hephaestion glanced over at him. His lips parted as if he were going to speak. His eyes gave away that he held a question back. Yet he looked away before asking and in silence stared up at the stars once more. Cassander, feeling as if he'd been tricked into giving so much of himself away to him, snapped at him when he said nothing in return.

"Well? Ask!"

"Its not important," Hephaestion said.

"How can it not be important? If I cannot consummate a relationship then I might as well be a eunuch. I'm a failure, one that I didn't used to be."

"I only meant my question."

"Ask it," Cassander ordered. He was on the verge of being hysterical now. It was a mixture of the wine and the rage. Hephaestion was used to the same behavior from Alexander. "Please, ask whatever it takes for you to help me with this Hephaestion."

"Have you been with many women?"

"Hundreds." Hephaestion glanced over at him. Cassander felt himself wanting to hit him. The bastard didn't believe him. Why shouldn't he believe him? "Fine, hundreds of times, about thirty women."

"Men?"

"What about them," Cassander said as he quickly sat up. He knew what Hephaestion was asking, and the other knew it. Hephaestion didn't need to clarify the question. He just lay silently, concentrating on the stars, waiting to see one move perhaps. "No. Never."

"Have you desired men?"

"I am not like a eunuch if this is what you are trying to say," Cassander fired back at him angrily. The word gay was not yet invented, and it was not frowned upon for a man to be with another man in a sexual or loving way, as long as they returned to women. But eunuchs never had women, only men, and that at times was slightly frowned upon –yet forgiven, for that was the purpose of a eunuch, to please other men.

"I was merely asking."

"By Hades how can you be so calm? You can't just ask me if I grow hard for men and just lie there and say nothing! For the love of Aphrodite, I am not a Ganymede. I've had women, I've pleased myself with women. I just can't anymore."

"For how long," Hephaestion asked quietly. Cassander hated his calmness. He wouldn't even look away from the damned gas balls in the sky to look at him. He hated him! Why was he telling him anything? He glanced over at him and envisioned himself strangling him, choking him, smothering him until his breath was no more.

"Three years," he answered bitterly.

"Maybe you're doing something wrong. Something may be different from when you first began."

"Easy for you to say, you've only been Alexander's whore. You don't know the love of a woman. It's easy for you to say that to me because you don't know anything."

"And you've never been with a man," Hephaestion shot back. For the first time he looked up at Cassander. Immediately Cassander wanted to take the comment about him being a whore back. There was a sadness in his eyes, tears even, that Cassander had failed to notice. So that was what he'd been doing alone out here. He'd been crying. Cassander lay back down, staring at the stars. Maybe the answers were there. Hephaestion seemed to stare at them a lot and he didn't have these kinds of troubles.

"Why aren't you with Alexander?"

"Because he is."

That was all that needed to be said. It was easy to be neglected by Alexander, but never before had Alexander taken another. Hephaestion had watched as Bagoas had led him from the room. Alexander was already practically undressing the boy as he was helped down the hall. Hephaestion had followed, slowly, waiting for Bagoas to emerge from the room. Yet he never had. Hephaestion knew well enough what was going on in the king's chambers.

Cassander continued to stare at him, his features softening. He knew the feeling of being unwanted, unneeded. It was a feeling he'd carried with him for years. But it was something that Hephaestion had never felt before. He'd come close, but this was the first time it had clung to his heart, weighing him down. Sighing, Cassander stared up the stars, not knowing what else to say. But from the corner of his eye he saw the single tear that slid down Hephaestion's cheek and fell to the ground.

"Why didn't you tell anyone," Hephaestion finally asked. Cassander knew he was speaking of the wound on his abdomen. He protectively put a hand over the new stitches, feeling them beneath his garments. Had he thanked Hephaestion for saving his life? Likely not, but what did it matter, he surely knew.

"I had it under control. There was no need to take time away from those that needed it."

"Why did you tear it open?"

"Why not," Cassander asked. "Do you think that Alexander is going to stop? Do you think he's had enough? He is just going to continue. There is no point. One way or another I will be killed. I just thought that maybe I should do myself in. That way I wouldn't have to suffer anymore."

"You don't have to be lonely."

"Who said I was lonely," Cassander implored. There was truth to the statement. But how had Hephaestion known? What was it that enabled him to find the weaknesses in others? He couldn't help but thinking of killing him again, but he knew he'd never do such. He wouldn't be able to. As pathetic as it was Hephaestion was the closest thing to a friend he had.

"No one had to," Hephaestion said as he pushed himself up, standing with a fluent motion, his muscles rippling. Cassander watched him, wondering where he was going. He sat up, turning and watching Hephaestion as he silently walked away. He didn't have to ask though. Hephaestion slowed, putting a hand on a pillar, he then glanced back over his shoulder at Cassander. "I'm going to my room. I'll leave the door unlocked."

With that he turned and disappeared down the hallway. Cassander cursed. What made Hephaestion think he could just leave? He'd shared secrets with him that he would have never mentioned to another. He would have rather killed himself, despite the fact he knew Hephaestion was understanding, and that no other would ever hear his confessions. Cassander looked up at the stars once more before he stood and hurried back to his room.

He slammed the door upon entering and dropped down onto his bed. He stared up at the ceiling. He closed his eyes and tried to drift to sleep. Suddenly he opened his eyes and flung the sheet away from him. He rose, still fully clothed with the exception of his sandals, and left the room. He quietly went down the hall, looking for the glances of others, but many were still feasting. Those that had been able to walk were back asleep in their own beds.

Cassander stopped in front of the door to Hephaestion's room. He bit his lower lip before turning back. He only made it a few feet down the hall before he had to turn again. He cursed himself for being so weak before he entered the room. He shut the door with an expertise silence and locked the door. He then entered the darkness, slowly feeling around while his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Finally he found the bed and pulled the sheet away. He crawled onto the bed, found his chest against Hephaestion's back. Hephaestion was on the verge of sleep but had heard him enter, despite his trials to keep himself silent. Cassander draped an arm over Hephaestion's waist, letting it hang limply.

"Don't even think about touching me," Cassander said as he buried his face in Hephaestion's soft hair. Hephaestion didn't move though, just closed his eyes again, and let a slight smile come to his lips. He then drifted to sleep, while Cassander fell asleep as well, his soft breath lingering on Hephaestion's neck.


	4. Confrontations

Title: "The Persian Campaign"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 4, "Confrontations"

A/N: Thanks again for reading and reviewing. I hope the last chapter didn't shock anyone too badly. If it did I'm so sorry! I should have put a better warning then. Anyway, here is the next chapter. Derive joy from it.

0

0

0

Hephaestion took a bite of the apple as Alexander paced back and forth in front of the table. For some odd reason he didn't fear him in this moment. He just wanted Alexander to tell him he hated him and get it over with. Everything about his stride told Hephaestion how he felt. Angry, confused, furious at him. Hephaestion sat back and took another bite of the apple.

"You were with Cassander all night," Alexander asked, his face growing redder as he did. He really wasn't asking though. He knew that it was true. He just didn't know how to confront Hephaestion about it. "Well?"

"How was Bagoas?"

"Don't take that tone with me Hephaestion Amyntor!" Alexander quickly rounded the end of the table and pushed himself in front of Hephaestion. He put his hands to his cheeks, fingers digging into him, his face full of anger. "Were you with him?"

"If you mean did he visit my room last night, yes, he did. If you mean did I let him stay the night, yes, I did. But if you're asking if I did to him what you did to Bagoas, then no, I didn't."

"Damn you Hephaestion," Alexander said as he shoved his face away, releasing his grip on him. He whirled, screaming lividly now at the man he thought he loved. "What I do when you are not around is none of your concern."

"Fine," Hephaestion said, hiding the hurt from his answer. Only the mixture of anger and wine would make Alexander say such a thing. It didn't matter though, for maybe he even meant it. Hephaestion glanced at him, yes, he was king and would do as he wanted. He always would do as he wanted. "Then what I do has nothing to do with you."

"Did he touch you," Alexander yelled.

"I thought we had concluded we have separate lives now."

"Did he touch you," Alexander only screamed again as he came and took Hephaestion's face with his hands again. He looked at Hephaestion, his Hephaestion. He swore that if Cassander had touched him he would break every bone in his body before tearing the flesh from his body and letting the vultures tear him apart. Hephaestion looked away, and Alexander did the only thing he knew how to do. He slammed a fist into the side of his face, and then held his chin tight, so that he forced him to stare back at him. His nose began to bleed. "Did he touch you?"

"No."

Alexander sat upon him, straddling him, but forcing him back against the chair so that he couldn't move. The side of his face burned not from the hit but more from his reddened cheeks. So had it come to this? Alexander released him and then put his head on his shoulder. Hephaestion didn't move to hold him, instead he dropped the apple from his hand, and watched it as it hit the floor. Alexander drew back, putting his hand under Hephaestion's nose to catch the blood before it fell onto his Persian robe. He looked wonderful in it. On the other hand Hephaestion found it hard to wear anything but Persian clothes, especially since his had been taken from his room.

"I'm sorry," Alexander said softly.

"Forget it ever happened," Hephaestion replied as he pushed Alexander off of him. Alexander fell back, his back hitting the table, and fell to the floor. He would lie there for awhile. Hephaestion glanced down at him. He'd drunk so much the night before he probably would forget this had ever happened. Hephaestion left the room, and spotted him in the hall.

"Drag him back to his room," Hephaestion told Bagoas as he passed him. The Persian stopped and turned, watching the general pass. Hephaestion knew he stared so he decided to throw another comment at the eunuch, one far more truthful than anything he knew at the moment. "He gets rid of all of his whores."

0

0

0

Cassander had not slept so well in the last three years, perhaps more. He opened his eyes slowly and took in his surroundings. Not his room, he recalled, Hephaestion's. Cassander rolled over, hearing the soft sounds of someone behind him. Sure enough Hephaestion was looking into a smaller silver mirror, wiping blood away from under his nose with a wet cloth. Cassander sat up, confused.

"Did I do that?"

"No," Hephaestion said with a laugh. "You actually didn't move at all last night. You only moved when I crawled out of bed. You shifted your arm."

He glanced over at Cassander, then went back to wiping blood away from his face. By the time he'd reached the room it had even spilled down onto his lips, lower chin, and part of his neck. He knew that some slave would be cleaning the floors where the blood had dripped. Cassander watched him, and then knew exactly what had happened.

"Did Alexander do that?"

"No. I fell into his fist."

Cassander withdrew from the bed. He approached Hephaestion, taking the damp cloth from his hand. He then pinched the bridge of Hephaestion's nose and swatted his hand away as he tried to reach up. Hephaestion then let Cassander lead him to the bed. Before Cassander laid him down he put another pillow upon the one already closest to them. He then let Hephaestion lay back, his head elevated. Cassander didn't remove his fingers from his nose, but put the wet cloth under his nose.

Next he stood, took another strip of cloth from the pile on Hephaestion's dresser, and wet it in the bowel of hot water. He folded it a few times before returning and laying it over Hephaestion's eyes. Hephaestion let out a small whimper as Cassander pushed on the cartilage of his nose. Cassander then went back to the dresser, and picked up a small vile of a yellow colored powered. He poured the contents into the cup of wine Hephaestion had brought back with him. It made Cassander wonder if Alexander had hit him before.

"Its not broken," Cassander informed him, pushing Hephaestion's hand back down as he tried to reach up to his nose. He then swirled the cup of wine and watched as they yellow powder dissolved. Then he carefully put the cup to Hephaestion's lips and began to tip it. "Drink of I'll drown you."

Hephaestion did as he was told, drinking all of the contents of the goblet. Cassander tossed the goblet across the room and heard a satisfying clang as it hit the hard floor. He hoped that it had bent. He then glanced down at Hephaestion. The bleeding was slowing and hopefully the powder would stop his nose from swelling, which would cause his eyes to blacken.

"I'll be back to check on you in a little while," Cassander informed him as he stood. He knew that he didn't have to. In fact, that was the first thing Hephaestion told him. It didn't matter though. He actually wanted to. But he didn't tell Hephaestion this. "Just stay still. Don't try to get up. I put enough powder in the wine to keep your head spinning for the next two days."

"I don't feel it."

"You will, don't worry." Cassander quietly picked up the dagger he had put on the stand next to the bed the night before. He didn't remember setting it there. But it didn't matter. It was good that he had it. It meant he didn't have to stop at his room. Hephaestion heard him pick it up though, heard the sound of the hilt scraping against the tabletop, and heard Cassander put it at his hip.

"Where are you going," Hephaestion asked, not thinking to worry much, but he did know that Cassander was not afraid of Alexander's wrath. Cassander didn't answer though. Instead he began to leave the room, but stopped when he heard Hephaestion try to sit up.

"Lay back Hephaestion," Cassander told him. "I'm just going to get something to eat, and I may bathe before I change my clothes. Try to sleep, will you."

0

0

0

Bagoas didn't know how to stop the Macedonian as he shoved past him into the room. He tried to reach out and grab him but was only rammed into the wall. The Macedonian, the general he'd noticed before, then made his way into the center of the room. Alexander looked up from his maps, and once he noticed it was Cassander, he scowled. Before he could react Cassander lunged at him, grabbing him by the shoulders, and threw him back. Alexander's back collided with the table and he let out a surprised gasp of pain. Before Alexander could even begin to defend himself Cassander gripped the dagger at his side, pulling it away from his waist, and dug the tip of the sharpened blade into the soft flesh of Alexander's throat. If he gulped the blade would pierce his skin.

"I swear to the gods," Cassander said as he pushed the blade just a little deeper, making a dot of blood appear. "I care not if you are a king, or a son of a god, I avow this. If you ever lay a hand on Hephaestion again, I will slit your throat and watch you writhe on the ground as you gasp for air."

Cassander shoved him as he pulled away. He replaced the blade at his side before leaving the room. He knew that Alexander would not send anyone after him. He couldn't. His guilt was so great a burden that even as king he could not punish Cassander, for he knew his mistake.

0

0

0

Cassander dropped down on the edge of the bed next to Hephaestion. He didn't worry about waking him for he knew that he was awake. Instead he pulled the damp cloth away from under his nose and over his eyes. He was slightly red around the nose but there was no swelling, at least not yet. Hephaestion opened his eyes and stared up at Cassander. For the oddest reason he could not remember why he had ever hated him in the first place.

"Feeling dizzy yet?"

Hephaestion reached up and put a hand on the side of his head. How did Cassander know? Everything had spun until he opened his eyes. Now it spun, but inside of his head, and there was a humming noise that wouldn't go away. He couldn't even speak. Instead he just nodded. Cassander reached out and put a hand on Hephaestion's forehead. Hephaestion liked the feeling. He liked the feeling of everything right now.

"You gave me too much," he said faintly. It only made Cassander laugh. He took the cloths and wet them again. The water was still warm. He wondered how the Persians pots kept things so warm. He brought the cloths back and put one under Hephaestion's nose, and the other on top of his nose. Meanwhile, everything was still swirling around his head.

"You're fine," Cassander said as smiled evilly. "I haven't given you enough to make you sick. By the way, did you get that from Olympias before we left Pella?"

"Yes," Hephaestion said as his hand fell from the side of his head. It still spun but it hurt as well. The only thing he liked was Cassander's closeness. He wondered for a moment if it was poison. Olympias had told him that it was for swelling, incase he was injured in battle. He'd believed her, because he'd even seen Alexander take it on campaigns to Illyria and Thrace from time to time. But maybe she'd just poisoned him. Finally he had to ask. "Do you think there was poison in it?"

"Just a strong opium her people have passed on from generation to generation. Don't worry, if you start getting sick I'll bring the chamber pot over. You're fine though, not even sweating yet. Two viles may have made you sick. This is just how it feels."

"Everything feels different."

"You mean everything feels better," Cassander said with another laugh. He reached out with a finger and ran it down the center of Hephaestion's forehead, to the tip of his nose, and then down to his chin. It caused Hephaestion to let out a soft moan, and he turned his head. Cassander smiled as Hephaestion squeezed his eyes closed. "Everything feels better when it feels surreal. That's why the Persians are addicted to their concoctions."

"It feels good," Hephaestion said weakly. He felt like sleeping, even though he didn't want to. It was becoming harder and harder to open his eyes. So he didn't open his eyes. Instead he just listened to what he was still able to hear. Cassander hadn't left him and there was something comforting in that.

Peculiarly enough Cassander wanted to touch him more. He wanted to touch him, knowing that it would bring Hephaestion pleasure, and he likely wouldn't remember it tomorrow. Slowly he reached out and ran a finger over Hephaestion's brow. He barely let the tip of his finger touch Hephaestion's skin. Hephaestion moved his head again, smiling as he did so. Cassander remembered someone doing the same thing to him when he'd taken this potion. Not only did it stop swelling, it took away your pain, and it gave you only bliss.

"Cass," Hephaestion whispered, unable to even finish his name as Cassander continued to run a finger over his face lightly, "does everything feel incredible like this?"

"Possibly. I'm barely even touching you," Cassander told him. He hadn't even moved from his face even though he wanted to. He watched as Hephaestion tried to open his eyes but found it impossible. Cassander felt like laughing, just because he was so weak it was rather precious. "Why, is it frightening you? From time to time the drug will make you panicky. Tell me if you want me to stop."

"No," Hephaestion said weakly. "I wanted you to do something more."

"Why? You won't remember this when you wake from the long sleep you'll have tonight."

"But I'll feel it now," he said breathlessly. Cassander found it hard to deny him anything. He even found himself attracted to him. He ran a finger over his lower lip and thought for a moment. Hephaestion wouldn't remember this tomorrow morning, so why not lean forward and kiss him? Even if he thought he recalled it happening Cassander could deny it. Giving in Cassander leaned closer to him.

Cassander brought his lips to Hephaestion's and began to kiss him. Hephaestion tried to kiss back but his reaction was slow, but none the less it was perfect. Cassander kissed him softly, taking all of his mouth with his own. He sucked on his lower lip after a minute, waiting before he went back to Hephaestion's mouth. He then slowly slid his warm tongue between Hephaestion's lips, entering his mouth heatedly. Hephaestion's tongue clashed with his and Cassander took him even fuller in the mouth. He drew Hephaestion's tongue into his mouth and held it there, sucking lightly at him with his lips. Warmth was placed between the both of them.

Cassander released Hephaestion's tongue, drawing his own lips back for a moment. He then went back for more, pulling at Hephaestion's lower lip again. He slid a hand under Hephaestion's neck and drew him closer, holding him in place as he continued to take his breath away. Slowly Cassander stopped the kiss, lightly pecking Hephaestion's lips as he drew away. Hephaestion law back, breathless, but obviously in a place of euphoria.

"Cass," he said as he tried to slow his breathing. He still couldn't open his eyes. It felt as if Cassander had put weights above his eyelids. Everything felt so stimulating, but the feeling was gradually fading, and he was beginning to feel drowsy and knew he was about to pass out. "Don't leave here till I pass out."

"I won't," Cassander promised.

"Will you…be here when I…wake up?"

Cassander ran his finger from Hephaestion's forehead to his chin again. He liked touching him as much as Hephaestion liked being touched at the moment. He knew that Hephaestion would never have aloud this if he hadn't poured all of the powder into his drink. So in a way he was taking advantage of him. For that he felt slightly depressed about it, knowing that Hephaestion truly didn't want this from him, he just thought he liked the feeling at the moment. At the same time he knew he'd never have this opportunity again, so he might as well write it off as bad judgement. It was the only kiss he'd ever receive from Hephaestion Amyntor.

He couldn't help but smile, for the great general couldn't even form sentences at the moment without having to pause. There was something about his vulnerability that Cassander couldn't help but find adoring. He was used to seeing the masked version of Hephaestion. The Hephaestion that was presented in public was a general, a great one, but one that tried so very hard to feel nothing. It was his weakness though, that heart that lay beneath his breast. It was the only thing that could hold him back in life because hearts broke. Alexander was good at breaking them too.

"I'll be here," he finally answered. Whether or not he lied he did not know. It would be interesting to see him awaken with a slight headache. It would be interesting to watch him try to figure out what had happened after he'd drunk from his goblet of wine. There were thousands of things that Cassander could tell him when he awoke if he wanted to be terrible and cause him a great deal of suffering. He couldn't do that though, at least not after kissing him.

Cassander watched in silence as sleep claimed Hephaestion. He stared at him for some time before he decided to leave the room. He still had not taken the bath he'd wanted to. So he returned to his own rooms where he had two slave girls draw him a bath. He sunk beneath the warm water and held his breath for as long as he could. He opened his eyes, still submerged, and watched as bubbles rose to the surface. Finally, after at least a good two minutes, he broke through the surface of the water. He wasn't afraid of drowning himself. It would be poetic justice he though, because he was drowning. He was drowning in those cerulean pools that he'd vowed as a child to hate. He was drowning in Hephaestion.


	5. Teller of Lies

Title: "The Persian Campaign"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 5, "Teller of Lies"

A/N: Thanks again for the support. Also, don't worry, Cassander will figure things out about his situation. Not to mention, Alexander will get angrier as he always does. But in the end everything will be fine.

0

0

0

There was nothing but darkness, but he still felt like he was moving. It reminded him of the rocking of a ship, even though he'd only been on a small raft he and Alexander had tried to float down the river on. It had sunk though, but he didn't feel like he was sinking. He was just floating, spinning then, and everything was still black. Slowly he regained the feeling of his fingers, and then the rest of his limbs. After a moment he slowly let his eyes flutter open. In doing so every muscle in his face began to ache.

He looked down at the sprawled form of Cassander, who rested his head on the side of the bed next to Hephaestion's chest. He rested his forehead on his arm, the other arm was hanging at his side over the bed. Hephaestion stared at him for a moment, blinking. He then reached over and with a finger pulled a dark tress of Cassander's hair away from his cheek.

"I said no touching," Cassander mumbled as he buried his face deeper into the sheet. He then slowly sat back, his eyes blurry from the lack of sleep he'd had. Sitting back on the chair he stretched his arm, which had fallen asleep, and glanced at Hephaestion. He looked dazed, confused, scared maybe. "How are you feeling?"

"My face hurts," he replied as he reached up. He pulled the cloth away from his nose and then touched it. Wincing at the pain he dropped the cloth back over his nose. He could tell now why everything hurt so badly.

"It should," Cassander said as he stood, pulling the chair back, and went to pour a goblet of wine. He picked up the heavy pitcher and carefully poured Hephaestion a cup. He brought it back, placing it carefully in Hephaestion's weakened hand. Hephaestion shook as he took the cup but managed to put it to his lips. Cassander remembered something just then. Hephaestion didn't elaborately check his wine anymore. He just drank.

"What happened?"

"You fell." Cassander found himself stopping short of the truth. He didn't know if it was his place to meddle with Alexander and Hephaestion's relationship. But at the same time, he felt that Hephaestion needed to know. He simply couldn't do it though. He couldn't hurt Hephaestion's view of Alexander for his own gain. Instead he carefully took the cloth from Hephaestion's nose and went to rewet it. As he did Hephaestion said the only thing that could have cut through his heart like a sharpened blade, running straight through him.

"Where is Alexander?"

"He's," Cassander paused for a moment as he rung the cloth out. "He's looking to some Persian affairs. He didn't want to wake you."

"Shouldn't you be with him?"

"No," Cassander replied as he put the cloth back over Hephaestion's nose. No swelling, but a lot of redness. If Hephaestion didn't stop trying to touch it he may cause it to start bleeding again. "I was ordered to stay here and make sure you had someone with you when you woke."

"Why?"

"Because you fell into my fist." Cassander glanced over at him. He knew that he had to revert back to the Cassander that Hephaestion was familiar with. He'd better start now before he found himself unable to do so. "I'm not going to apologize though so don't even expect me to grovel. You deserved it."

Hephaestion glanced toward the balcony, "How long have I been asleep for?"

"About a day. To keep your face from swelling, which I think would have been far more interesting, Alexander had a physician mix something in your wine. Don't worry, you're not dying."

"I know."

Cassander stood again. He made sure to draw himself up tightly, so that Hephaestion knew nothing. He then ran a hand through his dark tresses. After a moment he then turned and began to leave. He knew he'd be shutting the door on everything that Hephaestion and him had shared before. Yet he reminded himself that Hephaestion didn't remember a thing.

"You need a bath," Cassander said cruelly when he put his hand to the door. But he heard Hephaestion sit up further. Just as he began to pull the door open Hephaestion set his cup down on the stand next to the bed. He then called for Cassander, using a name Cassander thought he'd never hear again.

"Cass," he said quietly. Cassander froze and then looked over his shoulder. Without saying anything else Hephaestion stared at him. Cassander remembered now why he hated those cerulean eyes. They could pierce right through you. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm not," Cassander said as he pulled the door open and began to exit the room. He then threw back one last comment before the door shut. "You really do smell."

0

0

0

Hephaestion watched in disappointment as Cassander walked out of the room. He didn't want him to leave. He wanted him to stay beside him, care for him as he had. But most of all he wanted the one thing that he should not want. He wanted to feel Cassander's lips against his own again.

Never before had he been unfaithful to Alexander, even though the king always was to him. He'd never kissed another, man or woman, let alone lain with one. But there was something different about Cassander. There was something in the darkness that he held within his soul that leaked out his eyes that Hephaestion couldn't help but dream about. He wanted to be able to hold him, help him, but most of all he wanted Cassander to help him. He knew that Alexander had others, and he had always been jealous of the escapades he had here and there in towns they had sacked. Yet if he looked at another Alexander would find a way to confine him elsewhere, writing to others in the army, or even riding off for supplies.

Everything was different now. This was a new land, with hundreds of beauties. But there was the matter of Bagoas. Hephaestion knew from the moment he saw the slave that Alexander would want him. But he didn't know that Alexander would be so infatuated with him. He'd crossed a line, letting Bagoas be there, when Hephaestion wanted Alexander to himself. He hated sharing him with the world at times and the only sanity that kept him from screaming were the nights he had alone with him. But he wasn't even alone anymore.

The entire world wanted Alexander. Hephaestion wanted Alexander. There was only one problem with the great myth though, the myth they'd lived since childhood. This Achilles did not want his Patroclaus. Hephaestion had begun to envision Bagoas perhaps as Briseis. Achilles loved her, forgetting his cousin, and then Patroclaus had died. Did this mean that he would die now, he wondered. Maybe this tale would end differently.

Alexander and he had always thought about it. Hephaestion knew he'd die first, whether he was killed or it was something more natural. Then Alexander would follow, and Hephaestion would be waiting. But what if this time Achilles didn't follow Patroclaus as he had vowed to do. What if he decided to stay with Briseis instead? He began thinking about Cassander again, leaving his thoughts of Alexander behind. He suddenly sat up again, straighter. At first he didn't know why Cassander had lied to him. He could recall everything that had happened the night before.

He silently stood and went to draw himself a bath. It wasn't hard though and before he knew it he was sinking into the warm water. He rested there, thinking of Cassander for the longest time, before he finally washed himself. He then washed the smudged liner from around his eyes. He got out of the bath and dried himself with a towel. He then managed to find a white chifton that Cassander had left on the dresser for him. He put it on, then put sandals on his feet and left the room.

As soon as he left though he saw Parmenion in the hall. He averted his eyes to the floor, not wanting to speak to him. But Parmenion had already spotted him and approached. He put a hand on Hephaestion's shoulder, a sign of greeting, and then started in on him. Hephaestion already knew what he would say, he'd ask of his health first, then get down to the real reason for bothering to speak with him.

"Feeling at all better," Parmenion asked.

"Yes, better," Hephaestion answered meagerly.

"Cassander told us of your fall. Terrible to have missed you for so long. That's why you should tell Alexander himself too not to wear those damnable Persian robes. Tripping over them, bagh, he could break his neck son of a god or not."

"I'll advise him of it."

"Good, good," Parmenion said as he finally released Hephaestion's shoulder. Perhaps he'd decided that Hephaestion could walk by himself now. He then got down to what he really wanted, needed, to say. "Alexander needs to see you. I think you should go to him before you do anything else Hephaestion. He's in a real bout with his Furies again."

Hephaestion didn't want to go and if he could have avoided it he would have. But Parmenion continued to walk next to him, each stride measured, until they reached Alexander's door. Only then did Parmenion nod and say a farewell before leaving. Hephaestion waited for a guard to move out of the way, a Persian guard who didn't know like the Macedonians, that Alexander would welcome Hephaestion at any time. As soon at the entrance was clear Hephaestion entered and once again felt like he was no freer than Bagoas. He too was one of Alexander's many slaves.

He stopped in the center of the room, stopped just far enough away so that the flames of a candle could not light his stature. He stood, like an ivory statue, waiting for Alexander to turn and notice him. Alexander rolled up another scroll as he'd been doing for hours and turned around. He stopped short, releasing a breath, when he saw Hephaestion.

"Hephaestion," was all he was able to say. Hephaestion didn't answer. For how could you answer something like that? It was not a question for him to reply to, nor a statement to speak his mind about, nor an order he could take with a thank you. So he stood, silent as if he were mute. Alexander took a step forward and reached for him. Hephaestion only stepped back. Alexander then found something to say. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Again."

"What?"

"You mean," Hephaestion clarified icily, "you won't hurt me _again._"

"I didn't," he began but Hephaestion only cut him off. There was anger coming from him that he'd not released for years. Whether it all came out now because of his confusion with Cassander, or the fact that he saw Bagoas in the background, or because of his jealousy and the pain Alexander caused him, he was not sure. But it came, like a muse to a poet in the night.

"Oh right," Hephaestion said with a slight nod. "I tripped on my robe and fell. Or, if you ask Cassander, he hit me. I'm not sure which happened first. Do you? Wait, I can figure it out. You hit me, and in my fury and leaving of the room, I tripped on my robe. Then Cassander hit me. Sound correct?"

"Phae…"

"Don't, words don't have to be spoken. You regret it. I know. I forgive you. That's what I supposed to say right? That I forgive you?"

"Phae…"

"That's always how it is," Hephaestion continued. "You do something in a drunken rage and I forgive you the next day. I guess that I just began to understand it to be my place. I'm the one that stands behind you, supports you, warms you bed, and then forgive you when you've made an ass of yourself."

"Hephaestion!"

"Its my name, but I don't have to answer to it Alexander. There's a difference between me and him," he said, flinging a hand to gesture to Bagoas. "He was born a slave, and he'll always be a slave. I'm not your slave though Alexander. I wasn't born a slave, and even though I've tried to be your slave, it's killing me. You don't even see it though, do you? I should have told you long ago, told you all the things that you should have known. I should have told you that I felt myself fading away. But I thought you would know, but you don't see it. You'll never see it."

"That's not fair!"

"You're right," he replied calmly, whereas Alexander was not. "It's not fair. I have to blame myself too. I fell for each and every one of you lies Alexander. But I think I'm wiser now. So if you don't mind, don't send for me again. Not until I send for you. If you need someone to help warm you bed, you'll have the Persian. I'm sure he knows things I'll never dream of knowing. Just remember," he said once again to Bagoas. "He always throws his whores away."

"Hephaestion…"

"Its okay," Hephaestion said as he turned and began to leave. He wasn't going to listen to Alexander. It really was killing him. That's why he had to end it, at least for now. For as he'd determined earlier, the Alexander he knew was gone, and this was now the Alexander the Great he had become. Never again would things be the same. As he opened the door he glanced over his shoulder, not afraid for Alexander to see his watering eyes, but he wouldn't see him cry. For he wasn't going to cry. "I liked being your whore."

With that, he left.


	6. Honesty and Sincerity

Title: "The Persian Campaign"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 6, "Honesty and Sincerity"

A/N: Okay, its time for the sensual and passionate sex chapter. It's not only long overdue, but it has been requested. I hope that you enjoy. Remember, for those of you reading and not reviewing, it only takes a minute to win over my heart.

0

0

0

He let himself fall to the ground. His back sunk into the grass and he stared up at the night sky. It wasn't the peak of night yet but the blanket of blackness was still speckled with bright white stars. There was something comforting in the stars. He'd always found it so. It had to do with the fact that they would never change. They'd stay the same, hold no grudges, and in a sense they would always be there for you. Even when Alexander was not.

"Why did you lie," he whispered quietly. It was barely even escaping his lips, which from dehydration were cracking, but he couldn't find the strength to even run his tongue over them. After a moment he heard the slightest movement as Cassander turned his head next to him. His dark tresses soaked in the dew of the grass. The blades of grass had been perfectly molded to his head, for he'd been here for some time. Silently he stared at Hephaestion, stared at the profile of his luxurious face, and thought once again of kissing him.

That was going to be his demise, he had decided. He couldn't help but think of anything else. He recalled every breath they had taken, every touch of Hephaestion's soft expert lips against his. He could remember the way he smelled, the way his hair rested on the pillow, and the way he'd euphorically let a smile spread across his lips. Cassander could remember it all, and it was like a nightmare now. He couldn't sleep without forcing himself awake, finding himself panting heavily, erected in an area he shouldn't be.

He knew what lie Hephaestion was questioning. But there were so many lies he'd told him over the years. Each one was terribly painful now as he looked at the way Hephaestion breathed in a small breath of air. He'd hated him, and he did even now, but for reasons that were not reasonable to amount to hatred. He hated him because he wasn't with him, because in Pella he should have told him things he'd only thought, and in his procrastination Alexander had gotten to him first. He should have hated Alexander but found himself hating Hephaestion for being so beautiful, for emitting the aura that he did. He hated him for that.

He hated him for never noticing how he felt. He'd hidden his feelings, like Hephaestion so often did, but his eyes were not as giving. Whereas he could see what Hephaestion felt in those cerulean depths, his dark eyes hid his secrets, and no one cared to try to hunt for them. Cassander looked at him now, saw the pain walled inside of Hephaestion even now, and wanted so badly to comfort him. He couldn't let himself do that though, for it would be his demise.

For all of these years he'd managed not to love, not to care for others, thinking only of himself. There had been no woman that could bend his will like so many other men. He'd never lain with a woman long after doing what he'd set out to do for her, making her quake beneath him, because there was no reason to past that. Giving his heart to another would mean that he'd have to loose a part of himself that he wasn't willing to give. He couldn't let someone have his heart, because that gave another control over him, and he didn't want to be controlled like Hephaestion was by Alexander.

That's why he would not let Hephaestion touch him. If he touched him it would break him. He knew, knew all along that it was Hephaestion that he'd wanted. It was Hephaestion he desired above all others and he couldn't figure it out. It wasn't even his body that attracted him, but it had sadly come down to that in the last month. It was his pureness, the part of him that Cassander wanted to shield from the world. He didn't want any others to take advantage of Hephaestion as Alexander did. If Hephaestion touched him, it would make it all real, everything that Cassander tried to write off as a dream.

He didn't know how to answer Hephaestion because he didn't know how much he knew. He couldn't know much though. He'd probably been caught by one of the other generals and taken to Alexander. It was something Parmenion had told him to do, but he hadn't. He couldn't deliver him into the clutches of death and pain again. It wasn't fair. What he'd learned from Alexander could only be that he'd hit him, not Cassander, and he hadn't fallen like Cassander had told others he did. He hadn't lied to the others, or Hephaestion, to keep Alexander safe. He'd done it to keep Hephaestion from being embarrassed perhaps, but it was more to keep him believing. If he lost hope, as he'd been doing for months for it showed in his eyes, then there would be nothing left of him.

Cassander let a small breath of air escape his lungs and he then turned away from Hephaestion. He stared up at the stars, still hating them. He'd found it easy to hate. It kept him from loving, which only protected him. He thought back to the words of his father, telling him as a child that he must be close to the king. He was supposed to be where Hephaestion was now, in Alexander's heart. Antipiter could have never known that Hephaestion, returned from Athens, would find his way there first. It wasn't his fault though. Alexander had chosen him.

Still, he would have been a better match with Alexander, or at least at times. He wouldn't protect him in the same way Hephaestion did. He wouldn't have nurtured him, but let him make his mistakes. But he never would have let Alexander walk all over him. He could have fought him. He could have been just as hard as Alexander. Alas, that was why Alexander loved Hephaestion though, for the tenderness the blue eyed man could give him. He didn't want him for his politics of his leadership, those qualities just happened to be a bonus.

What was he supposed to tell him now though? He thought about what he could say to bend his words, making it a lie, but one that Hephaestion would not figure out. It would be wrong though. For some reason he had come to trust Hephaestion, and Hephaestion had put his trust in him. Lying to him would ruin it, even if Hephaestion didn't know of it, Cassander would. He glanced over at him again without turning his head. Hephaestion was patient, hadn't asked anything else of him, but was still silently awaiting an answer. Cassander couldn't have known that Hephaestion had stopped expecting one.

"Because," Cassander breathed out slowly, "the story was better than the reality."

It was. It would have been so much better if Cassander had gotten into a fight with him and hit him. It would have even been better if he'd tripped on the Persian robe he wore. It would make a wonderful laugh at parties later, but it would have been better. Alexander hadn't hit Hephaestion in the face, he'd struck him in the heart.

"There is no glory without suffering," Hephaestion whispered. Cassander glanced over at him once more. Those were the famous words of Philip. He'd spoken them to Alexander, and Alexander now spoke them to others. Hephaestion was the one that had recorded it in his mind though, unlike the others who'd listen once, and forget it later.

"Love isn't glory."

"Then what is it," Hephaestion asked. He found himself glancing over at Cassander. Cassander stared up at the sky though. For a split second Hephaestion thought that he would lean over and kiss him, hold him, show him what it was. But he didn't. Instead he waited for Cassander to answer.

"How should I know," Cassander said bitterly. He hadn't loved, wouldn't love, couldn't love even. It wasn't glorious though. It was more of a curse if he had anything to say about it. Though, even though it was the downfall of many men, he wanted to be cursed before he died. Which wasn't likely to happen if Alexander didn't stop trekking through the world, fighting men on mountain cities, or on the plains of Persia. He took another breath. "It isn't glorious though."

"It can be."

"It doesn't look gratifying through your eyes," Cassander let out before he could stop himself. He paused and glanced over at Hephaestion. It didn't seem to upset him though, for he knew there was a truth in the statement, one which he would have to accept. "I didn't mean that."

"Why did you lie about the rest," Hephaestion asked, not waiting long for silence to come between them. He glanced over at Cassander. The other was staring straight up, trying to avoid the question. Hephaestion could see him trying to act as if he hadn't heard him. But he was also looking for an answer, hoping that Hephaestion wouldn't ask again, but searching for something to say just in case. "You kissed me."

"You asked me to," Cassander replied quietly. He reached up then and ran a hand through his hair, away from his forehead. The stars were beautiful but he was tired of looking at them. He wanted to turn his head and look at Hephaestion but knew that he shouldn't. Especially since Hephaestion was already looking at him. It was a stupid answer to have given the other, that he'd asked. Of course he had, he was drugged, he didn't know any better. Cassander should have been the one to restrain. He should have been able to say no and fight his temptations.

"I know," Hephaestion replied softly though. There was a silence though for some time. Cassander didn't know how to respond to Hephaestion and at the same time Hephaestion didn't feel like saying anything more. He wanted to tell Cassander he wanted to kiss him again, wanted to tell him that he remembered it, the kiss they'd first shared. Even the wine mixed with the foreign drug hadn't been able to erase the feeling and image from his mind. He sat in silence though, waiting for Cassander to speak. But he knew that Cassander wouldn't speak, because he was strong like that.

Cassander didn't need to find his comfort in speaking to others. Hephaestion wondered where he found it, had written Aristotle once and even asked when he mentioned the name. It had been unwise, to ask something like that when there were a hundred other things to tell him of. But Aristotle had written back, the words as clear on the parchment as all the others. Yet Hephaestion seemed to have remembered those words, that answer, more than anything else.

"_He finds his comfort in the eyes of his enemy. Whereas Alexander runs from his mother, as you suggest, Cassander has nothing to run from. He has nothing to run to either. That is why he runs my dear Hephaestion. He is a man tormented by having no past and no future. His comfort comes from the field, for there he is just as the rest, fighting for his life. Fighting sooths him, for he knows he can live or die, but cares not which as you describe it. That is why he lays wounded now, but cares not, and refuses help from others. Cassander, my dear boy, finds comfort in the hatred you speak of him having so freely. Whereas you love, he hates. Hephaestion, if there is one thing that I know in all of my years it is this, that love and hate are at times the very same thing."_

"Cassander," Hephaestion whispered. "Why didn't you let me touch you."

"It makes it real," he replied after a long silence. He glanced over at Hephaestion, meeting his eyes briefly before averting them. He stared back up at the sky but found himself continuing. "I can't let you touch me, because then I know that you're real. I know that you're there. You wouldn't be a myth anymore."

"I've always been real."

"Not to me. You're the ideal Hephaestion. You're the presence that men search all their lives for. Perfection, molded into the shape of a man, with the wisdom that could surpass the famous Aristotle. You're a myth because you can't be real. I could write now to Greece, tell them that I've found a man that cares not about glory, but about the one that he loves. I can tell them of your looks, of all that you do to protect Alexander from himself, but the same protection drains the life from you. I can tell them you are loyal, where all others will someday fail. I can tell them that you believe in this insanity without question. I would tell them everything about you Hephaestion, and do you know what they would do? They would laugh, and dismiss you as a myth. No soul can be as pure as yours. No man can look richer than Aphrodite in all of her glories. That's why you aren't real, because in this world you can't be real. You are too strong when you should be innocent, to innocent when you should be strong. Your weakness is your strength, and what should make you all the stronger only brings you back down to weakness. You're above men that exist today Hephaestion.

"Let others speak of Alexander the Great," he continued, "in the years to come. Let them talk of him now in Athens, in Macedonia, and in Persia. They say that he can conquer all, except for that joke we had when we were children, that your thighs would conquer him. They'll write his name and speak it as if he were a god. His journey will be considered a myth. But he's just a man. We're all just men, the rest of us, I'm just a man. Yet you are not Hephaestion. You are pure incomparability. There will be many soldiers to follow us when our bones are dust, and there will be a ruler like Alexander, if not his son. There will be one man, brilliant but on the verge of insanity, that will try to have it all. But something will be missing.

"There will never be another Hephaestion. Never again can there be something so pure in this world. You're a mistake you know, your soul should have been that of a god's. But somehow you slipped into the body that lies next to me, and bring light to a place where there is none. The gods won't let that happen again. They won't share ever once more such a divinity with us mortals, because look at what we do to innocent things. Look what Alexander has done to you, and look at what the rest of us have done as well. We have sat by, idle, and let it happen. But still, even defeated, you manage to be ten times that of all the purest men on earth. Even their purity is corrupted, but you are a thousand times the better of them.

"That is why you are not real Hephaestion. Its not because you shouldn't be, or don't deserve to be. You are not real because there cannot exist a man that is as great as you."

Hephaestion stared at him, not knowing what to think. He began to understand it then. Perhaps the reason that Cassander had hated him for so long was because he loved him. Maybe that was why he hated him, or at least had thought he had. He reached over, and placed his hand over Cassander's, which rested on his chest.

"You're touching," Cassander said as he let Hephaestion entwine his fingers with his own. He felt the warmth of Hephaestion's hand pressed against his despite the nip of cold in the night air. Despite the fact that this was only going to make it harder for him to resist Hephaestion he couldn't let go of his hand. He couldn't push him away, at least not now, because he was hurting too. He needed this comfort as much as Hephaestion did.

"I know," Hephaestion said. He then slowly pushed himself up with his other arm and moved closer to Cassander. He slowly leaned over him, staring down into his eyes, and put his hand on his cheek as he dug his elbow into the grass. He then leaned down and pressed his lips to Cassander's, kissing him tenderly, sensing his longing as Cassander tried hard not to kiss him back. Cassander slowly let his hand slide away from Hephaestion's and skim lightly against his arm. He lightly slid upwards, until his palm was at Hephaestion's cheek, his fingers holding him lightly where he was. He didn't want him to come further, to come closer, because he couldn't resist him any longer, but couldn't love him.

Hephaestion, feeling Cassander's body tighten, slowly drew away from him. It was not wise to have kissed him, cornered him, touched him when he didn't want to be touched. Yet it felt so right. Cassander stared up at him, and he reached up with both hands and pulled Hephaestion's hair away from his face. Hephaestion reached up and pulled his hair back as well. He continued to stare at Cassander though, looking for a sign telling him to stop, or to continue. It was answered when Cassander lifted his back from the ground and brought his lips to Hephaestion's. He kissed him boldly, as he did before, sucking his lip between taking all of his mouth with his.

Cassander slid his tongue between Hephaestion's lips, and Hephaestion didn't try to stop him. He let Cassander taste him, delve into his mouth, searching for a treasure it seemed. Cassander bent his knee and pushed himself further off of the ground. He wrapped an arm around Hephaestion's back to support him, kissing him all the while, sucking at his lower lip and then tongue. Hephaestion slowly lowered him back down though, but continued to kiss him, and let Cassander run his tongue over his lower lip.

He fell back lightly against the grass. Hephaestion lowered himself further, letting Cassander comfortable kiss him. Cassander reached over for Hephaestion's left thigh. He lightly dug his fingers into his thigh, bringing Hephaestion's thigh over his right leg. He then, still playing with Hephaestion's lips, raised his leg. His knee lightly pushed into Hephaestion's groin, but he didn't mind, knowing that Cassander only wanted the closeness of him for now. Cassander stifled a moan and then broke away from Hephaestion completely.

"Hephaestion," he said as he fell back, putting a hand over his face, and then brushing his hair back. He looked up at him, and managed to reach up and run a finger over Hephaestion's lower lip, which from his sucking was slightly larger than it had been moments before. "If you come back to my room with me, can you swear nothing will change between us?"

"You can call me a whore anytime you like."Hephaestion smiled softly. "You can talk down to me. You can fight with me in front of the other Companions. You can wish me harm against the next barbarian tribe we face."

"I wouldn't have let them kill you."

"I know," Hephaestion said softly as he ran a hand through Cassander's dark tresses. He met Cassander's lips as he pushed himself up again. This time Cassander just kissed him, taking all of his mouth with his. He did nothing playful, nothing extraordinary, but it was all the better. Hephaestion pulled back, drawing Cassander up with him, till they were both sitting. Cassander then stood, pulling Hephaestion up with him, and pressed his forehead to Hephaestion's. He held him for a moment, lightly breathing upon him with his eyes closed, and then brought his lips back to Hephaestion's. As he kissed him he reached down and let Hephaestion take his hand.

Cassander and Hephaestion were going to close a door on what friendship they had when they began down the hall. Both of them knew it. They knew it deep down, and it still didn't matter. Cassander slowed when he felt Hephaestion's steps slow as they began to pass the grand doors from behind which Alexander threw another dinner feast. Cassander stopped and took a few steps back, and took Hephaestion's hand. He knew that Hephaestion still loved Alexander, and it didn't bother him. Hephaestion would always love Alexander, and Alexander him, but love wasn't glorious. It had a way of changing things. Hephaestion may love Alexander, but Cassander knew he didn't love him, so it didn't matter that Hephaestion had stopped. They weren't meant to be in love, Cassander and Hephaestion, but comforting one another would do.

"Do you want to go in," Cassander asked. If Hephaestion would have said yes he would have followed him in. He wouldn't have held it against him. For how could he, knowing what he did? But Hephaestion merely shook his head lightly, and then turned his eyes back to Cassander. He leaned over, kissing him lightly, and then began to follow him once more.

They entered the room, and Cassander felt a pain grab at his heart as he locked the door. He stared down at his hand for a moment. He knew then that he'd told Hephaestion he couldn't give himself away to love. Yet for some reason he knew that if he were to be in Hephaestion's arms, he would let himself go. Then Hephaestion would know. Instead, he turned and watched as Hephaestion blew various candles around the room out. He left only a few around the bed lit, two on either side, making the light dim but idyllic for what they were about to do. Cassander suddenly felt a fear, a fear to let Hephaestion know how he truly felt, and for himself to admit it fully. But Hephaestion stood in front of the bed, and held out a hand. The simple gesture was enough to calm Cassander's fears.

Cassander came forward and took Hephaestion's hand. Hephaestion then brought his lips to his, kissing him deeply. Hephaestion put a hand on the back of Cassander's thigh and drew him closer, raising his leg slightly as he pulled him against him. Cassander felt Hephaestion's thigh brush his. Hephaestion was stronger, and Cassander secretly liked the idea of that. But when Hephaestion slid his tongue into Cassander's mouth, Cassander fought with him for a moment over dominance, and won. He knew Hephaestion had let him but it didn't matter.

Hephaestion put a hand on Cassander's arched thigh. He pressed his hand against Cassander's thigh, and slid his hand upwards. After a moment, his hand rested at the base of Cassander's thigh. Cassander broke away from Hephaestion's lips and leaned closer. He put a hand at the base of the back of Hephaestion's neck, and the other against his chest. He put his chin on Hephaestion's shoulder and cried out softly, in surprise, as Hephaestion put his hand over the loincloth that covered Cassander's arousal. He didn't move as Hephaestion began to pull the cloth away. Hephaestion put his palm against him, his fingers touching the softer hairs he found, and felt Cassander convulse in passion as it sent shivers through his body.

Cassander turned his head and brought his lips to Hephaestion's neck. But at the same time he couldn't help but reach down and put a hand over Hephaestion's arm above the wrist. He pulled his hand away from him, not wanting him to be so close just yet. Hephaestion shifted himself thought, understanding it seemed. Hephaestion reached up and slowly broke away from Cassander. He then, with Cassander's eyes on him, undid his chifton and pulled it away from his chest. Then he reached closer to Cassander, and slowly pulled away the black cloth that covered him. Cassander let him do this, still worried about Hephaestion touching him though. He'd never get over the unease of that feeling. But Hephaestion was tender and gradually pulled Cassander's clothes away from him.

Cassander watched the dim orange light linger over Hephaestion's tanned chest. He reached out, once again knowing touching him would only make things harder, more real. He came closer, and brought his lips to Hephaestion's while he put both hands on his chest. Hephaestion put his hands behind Cassander, bringing him closer still, until no space came between them. Cassander felt Hephaestion's arousal pressed against his upper thigh, but he knew Hephaestion felt the same thing of him.

"Lay down," Hephaestion whispered into his ear, knowing he may have to order Cassander around here and there. Cassander was ready, he could sense it. He was just too new at this sort of thing to know what to do. He pulled away, met his dark eyes with his own, and stared at Cassander silently. Cassander let out a soft breath of air, and then crawled onto the bed and sprawled out on his back.

"This is wrong," he whispered as Hephaestion followed, leaning over him but not yet going over him with his body. Hephaestion drew back for a moment, his hair draping over Cassander. He put an arm over Cassander's chest and stared at him for a moment. He lightly ran a hand through Cassander's hair, waiting for a moment to see what Cassander would say next. "Hephaestion, I love you."

"I know," Hephaestion whispered as he pressed his lips to Cassander's. Deep down he had always known. Cassander kissed him, playing with his lower lip once more, and then reached back for Hephaestion. He spread Hephaestion's thigh over his and then raised his knee lightly into his groin. Hephaestion let out a breath of air, stifling a moan in the back of his throat, and let Cassander reach behind him. Cassander ran a hand over Hephaestion's buttocks, lightly caressing him before he moved his hand to his back.

Cassander arched his back lightly, and bit at Hephaestion's earlobe. Hephaestion pulled Cassander to him. He held him against his chest, digging his fingers into his back. He held Cassander suspended for before he let him fall back against the bed. He straddled him, bringing his lips to his chest. He ran his fingers over each muscle first, letting it harden, and then ran his tongue over the area before putting his lips to it. Cassander breathed heavily and dug his fingers into Hephaestion's back, gasping as he felt himself quiver slightly. He trembled as Hephaestion ran his delicate fingers over his navel.

Slowly Hephaestion brought his lips to his navel, running his tongue over the soft flesh at first, but then into the small hole. Cassander wreathed as Hephaestion did this, dropping a hand from his back to Hephaestion's head. He wrapped a hand in his hair, hoping it would stop him from going further. Hephaestion understood, and brought his lips back to Cassander's. He knew what he feared.

Hephaestion put his hands on Cassander's arms and quickly rolled off of him. Cassander remained above him, straddling him, his breathing still heavy. Cassander leaned down and pressed his lips to Hephaestion's. He took his entire mouth, holding him in the moment, and then put his forehead to Hephaestion's. He breathed softly for a moment, knowing that he couldn't do it. He wanted Hephaestion to wreathe beneath him, wanted to be able to claim him, but he couldn't.

"Cass," Hephaestion said as he reached up and put a hand on his cheek. Cassander kept his eyes closed. He hated how Hephaestion knew everything. He hated it, but he liked it all the same. Hephaestion then whispered into his ear. "I won't hurt you."

Cassander knew he wouldn't. He knew that Hephaestion would never bring pain to him. Cassander pulled his forehead away from Hephaestion's and found himself at his lips again. He let out a breath against his neck then, biting him softly. It made Hephaestion moan as Cassander nipped at the skin and then sucked at it as he had his lips. Even Hephaestion wreathed beneath Cassander as he brought his kisses to his chest. He sucked at the skin, tasting Hephaestion's sweat mixed with the natural taste of his skin. He nipped playfully at a nipple, then sucked at it for a moment. Hephaestion put a hand in Cassander's hair, his fingers lightly massaging his scalp.

Cassander moved even lower. He put a hand and Hephaestion's left thigh and raised his leg so his knee bent. He then pushed his leg lightly into the sheets, leaned down, and kissed his inner thigh. Hephaestion was breathing heavily, sweat beading over his body. Cassander heard his labored breaths, felt him grabbing for him, but instead gripped the sheets when he couldn't reach him. Cassander sucked lightly at his inner thigh, then at the soft skin just beside his arousal. It was easy, Cassander thought, since he knew already what would please Hephaestion. It wasn't like a woman where you had to worry. For some reason, he just knew.

He then moved his head slightly over, his hair brushing against Hephaestion's thighs, then his hardened form. Cassander took Hephaestion's sacs in his palm and lightly squeezed them, tenderly touching him as Alexander had never the means to do. Hephaestion trembled, and let out a cry of Cassander's name. Cassander heard, but knew he wasn't willing him to stop. Even if he were Cassander wouldn't have been able to do it. He was enveloped in passion. Cassander looked up at Hephaestion, saw the pleasure in his face, then brought his mouth to his arousal. He didn't take him all in the mouth at first. To begin he sucked only at his tip, then moved lower and lower.

"Cassander," Hephaestion cried out. He felt every touch Cassander gave him. He felt his lips around his hardened flesh, lightly sucking, drawing him out of himself. He felt the dark tresses that brushed against him. He felt Cassander's chest against his knee, felt all of his weight against him. He breathed heavily, letting the feeling of euphoria sink in, before he finally came. Cassander didn't withdraw immediately though, as he would have thought. Instead he lipped at him, taking every part of Hephaestion in, before he released him. He then kissed his inner thigh, feeling the warmth and loving it.

He brought his kisses back to Hephaestion's chest, his hands moving one either side of Hephaestion. He dug them into the sheets as he kept himself elevated, only touching Hephaestion's skin lightly here and there as he crawled up his body. Hephaestion bent both knees, and pressed them against either side of Cassander. He reached up as Cassander stared down at him and put a hand to his cheek. Again with his eyes he told him that he would not hurt him. Hephaestion lightly placed a hand on Cassander's hip and urged him to lower himself. Cassander didn't move for a moment, just felt Hephaestion's hand against him, but then did as Hephaestion instructed.

Hephaestion lowered him until he could wrap a leg around him, his thigh pressing into his buttocks. Hephaestion put a hand on Cassander's upper arm and drew him closer. Cassander let out a breath of air, felt himself against Hephaestion's backside, knowing what was bound to happen next. Hephaestion drew him down only a little further and tilted his head back. He put a hand on Cassander's cheek, holding his hair away from his face, and stared at him tenderly for a moment. Cassander's lips parted as he put a hand at Hephaestion's hip and pulled him up slightly. He then slowly slid himself into Hephaestion, letting out a louder gasp than the other as he did so. He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing deeply, until he heard Hephaestion let out a pained moan. He opened his eyes, looked down into Hephaestion's blue eyes, already worried he'd hurt him or done something wrong.

"It's alright," Hephaestion told him as he let out a breath of air. Cassander knew by the look in his cerulean eyes that it was. It was okay, he hadn't hurt him, but he knew he was doing this wrong. Hephaestion smiled softly at him though, not minding, just reaching up again and holding some hair away from Cassander's face. He then took the knee against Cassander's backside, and using it pushed against Cassander, bringing him forward and deeper into him.

"Ah," Cassander gasped out as Hephaestion did this. Hephaestion did it again after a pause though, jolting Cassander forward. Cassander did the third thrust by himself, knowing then the feeling of it. One hand he steadied himself with, grabbing the sheets. The other Hephaestion took with his free hand, holding him tightly as Cassander closed his eyes tightly, trying to deal with this next experience. Cassander let out another cry before saying anything else.

"Hephaestion…" he said between passion filled breaths and light tender thrusts. "I…I can't…I…"

Hephaestion didn't say anything. He just threw his head back as Cassander thrust into him again. He had to bite his lower lip from screaming in pleasure. He knew that screaming would only distract Cassander, scare him perhaps. With his knee he pulled Cassander into him again and this time he felt Cassander getting closer to his climax. He'd do it, Hephaestion didn't doubt it and even if he didn't, it wouldn't matter. He'd already surpassed all of the passion he and Alexander had had in the last two months.

"Ah," Cassander screamed out as with another thrust he came. Suddenly he felt himself weaken. He felt his elbows bend, felt ecstasy spread through his body. He'd done it. He'd given himself completely to Hephaestion. Hephaestion let out a breath he'd tried to hold before Cassander collapsed onto his chest. Cassander breathed heavily into the muscles of Hephaestion's chest, not moving from inside of him. He just lay there, panting, knowing he loved Hephaestion.

Hephaestion ran a hand through Cassander's hair, panting himself as he did so. After a few minutes Cassander drew himself out of him, stretching his legs out. But he did not move from on top of Hephaestion. Instead he kept his head on his chest, breathing heavily still, and lay carefully atop him. Hephaestion wrapped a leg over the back of Cassander's, entwining them, and then let his head fall back again. He closed his eyelids shut for a moment, trying to calm his racing heart.

"This," Cassander said weakly into his chest, his lips grazing the flesh and sending shivers up both of their spines. He didn't say anything after that. He just continued to pant. But Hephaestion knew what he wanted to say and finished for him.

"Doesn't change anything?" He said it as more of a question, as he ran a hand through Cassander's dark tresses. Maybe it didn't. Maybe tomorrow they would go back to being enemies. But he couldn't help but think that this was something they would share again. And if not, he'd remember this moment forever, and compare everything else to it.

"No," Cassander said, eyes still closed, as he began to drift away to sleep. He'd been utterly spent. Had this been a normal circumstance he would have sent Hephaestion away, then slept alone. Not to mention, unfulfilled. But he liked resting atop him, feeling his breathing beneath him, listening for the beat of his heart. He whispered then, just so that Hephaestion could hear him, the rest of his reply. "It changes everything."

There was silence then. Cassander knew that Hephaestion was falling asleep as well, for he was too. They both needed sleep. But he didn't want to awaken alone. He wanted for once to be cursed with love, with Hephaestion's love. Before he fell asleep, he whispered to Hephaestion who was on the verge of sleep as well.

"Don't leave."

"I won't," Hephaestion whispered back as he rested a hand in Cassander's hair, the other on his back. Cassander could sleep peacefully now. He knew that he spoke the truth. For once he could go to sleep in Hephaestion's arms, but now, he didn't know what he would dream about after having him.


	7. Changes

Title: "The Persian Campaign"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 7, "Changes"

A/N: Thanks so much for your reviews. To answer Koalared, we'll see what happens to Cassander. You know Alexander, he's huffy. By the way I loved you comment about the ice in your coke! Queen, again I say thank you. I can only hope it was written to please you.

0

0

0

Cassander opened his eyes slowly, expecting to awake alone. But at his lids fluttered open Hephaestion was sprawled out next to him. Cassander had obviously rolled off of him in the middle of the night. He dug his elbow into the bed and held himself up for a moment, staring at Hephaestion. A lock of his lighter brown hair fell over his face, spreading out and shielding his beauty from Cassander. Cassander reached out, pulling the hair back, and then just stared silently at him. He was imperishability, a myth still, but Cassander had known him last night.

Drawing in a breath he continued to stare at the magnificence before him. Even while sleeping he had an aura about him. His jawline perfect, his lips lightly pouting, and rather swollen from the night before. Cassander leaned closer, kissed Hephaestion lightly on the temple, and then slid out of the bed. He glanced back at Hephaestion as he made his way to the bath. He drew a bath, and then returned to the other room, to see if Hephaestion had awoken. He stopped, leaning against a pillar, and watched the rise and fall of Hephaestion's chest for a moment.

Turning, he went back to the bath and climbed into the warm water. He let his body soak, and thought back on the night's previous actions. It brought a soft smile to his lips. After a few moments he slid beneath the water, holding his breath for as long as he could. He then came up, tipping his head back, and sat with his eyes closed. Subsequently he heard Hephaestion enter the room from behind him, stopping after crossing the threshold.

"Don't go," Cassander whispered, eyes still closed. He held a hand out of the tub and heard Hephaestion come forward. Hephaestion took it, and sat on the edge of the tub. Cassander opened his eyes. Hephaestion had a sheet wrapped around himself, but left his upper chest exposed, revealing a small red blood blister that Cassander had caused just above his right nipple. Hephaestion glanced down and smiled a little. Hephaestion then leaned down, the tips of his hair falling into the water, and brushed his lips against Cassander's. Cassander let go of his hand, bringing it to his cheek, and kissed him passionately back. Hephaestion's swollen lips still ached for Cassander.

"What would you have me do," Hephaestion asked as he brought his lips away. Cassander looked away from his eyes for a moment. Hephaestion had never known him to be so tender, and perhaps Cassander himself didn't know how much he could feel. Perhaps it scared him. But Cassander then lifted his head, trying to keep himself emotionless, but still let out a small plea.

"Stay with me," Cassander asked of him. He took his hand, ran his fingers over the back, felt each finger with his own. He knew very well what after Hephaestion's nights with Alexander, Hephaestion would leave immediately before others knew he'd been there. Everyone knew though. What would make this different?

"I haven't left."

Cassander playfully grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the tub. Hephaestion was caught off guard but found himself laughing as the warm water spilled over him. Cassander glanced over as water splashed onto the floor. He didn't care though. It wasn't his palace. Instead he wrapped his arms around Hephaestion and pulled his back to his chest. Cassander put his hands on Hephaestion's chest, and playfully kissed at the back of his neck. As he did Hephaestion tried to untangle himself from the sheet. He pulled it away from himself and then began to wring it out. After a moment he tossed it onto a chair, hoping it wouldn't drip, for he still had to respect the palace even though he hated almost everyone in it. He then leaned further back, sliding down a little, and let Cassander nip at his neck. Hephaestion turned his head, meeting Cassander's lips with his own. He took the opportunity to playfully bite at Cassander's lower lip. Cassander only messed around back with him. He bit back at Hephaestion, nipping lightly at him, and at the same time wrapped a leg around Hephaestion's midsection.

"I don't think I'm going to let you go," Cassander said into his ear just before sucking at the lobe. Hephaestion put a hand in the water, cupping it, and then threw water at Cassander as a child might have.

"Behave," Hephaestion joked. He then reached over and took the sponge from the bath stand. He dipped it into the water before reaching for the soap. He then slipped away from Cassander's hold on him and turned himself over. Silently he put the sponge to Cassander's shoulder and began to wipe away at the sweat that had been there.

Cassander tilted his head back, resting it against the tub, and let Hephaestion delicately wash him. Hephaestion raised an arm, lightly trailing his fingers over the soft wet skin before rubbing the sponge against him. Cassander rested in silence for some time before he felt the urge to speak.

"Hephaestion," he began quietly, keeping his head back and his eyes closed. He found that with his eyes closed he could feel everything better. "Did he ever hit you before?"

Hephaestion continued to run his fingers over Cassander's chest, not answering immediately. Cassander drew in a slight breath as he felt himself begin to grow hard beneath the water. He said nothing more though. There was nothing he could do to force Hephaestion to tell him his secrets if he wasn't up to it. But before he knew it Hephaestion had come closer to him again and was kissing his chest lightly.

"At times," he answered quietly. Cassander reached over and put a hand in Hephaestion's hair. Hephaestion titled his head up and looked at Cassander. He brought his lips to Cassander's, kissing him tenderly and wholly on the mouth. He then brought his lips away and stared at Cassander's dark eyes. Cassander was searching his cerulean eyes though, looking for answers he'd never tried to find before. Hephaestion let him, knowing that at this moment anything he could ask, he would be willing to answer.

"Did you ever hit him back," Cassander asked with the same tender curiosity. He watched as Hephaestion averted his eyes. At the same time Cassander put his hand on the side of Hephaestion's cheek and rubbed his finger over his jawline. He even liked the feeling of the new stubble coming in against the soft, but tight flesh. Cerulean eyes came back to him there. Not very well hidden behind them was a twinge of pain, a memory.

"No."

"You should have." Cassander paused. "Or you should have had someone do it for you."

Hephaestion looked at him for a moment. Something had been bothering him all this time. When he'd been drugged Cassander had left the room. Yet he could not remember where he'd gone. He couldn't even remember if Cassander had mentioned it. Everything inside of him told him that if he was to ask Cassander would lie to him. He was good a lying. Yet Hephaestion had the slightest bit of hope, and a great deal of trust, and decided to ask anyway.

"Cassander," he began softly. "If I ask you something will you promise not to lie to me."

"Promise," the other said after a long time. He couldn't begin to imagine what he was going to ask. But he wouldn't lie to him. He took one of Hephaestion's hands, entwining their fingers. He then brought Hephaestion's knuckles to his lips and kissed each one lightly, waiting for Hephaestion to speak.

"Where did you go, when you left with the dagger."

Cassander quickly looked up at him. He felt his heart skip a few beats. He knew that telling Hephaestion could lead to so many possibilities. There was the possibility that Hephaestion would hate him for not staying out of the situation. Yet perhaps not. After taking in a light breath he ran a finger over one of Hephaestion's brows.

"I went to speak to Alexander."

"What did you say?"

"I," Cassander began but then stopped. He felt emotions tugging at him again. Before he started again his eyes glistened with tears. He put a hand to Hephaestion's neck before Hephaestion drew him closer. Hephaestion wrapped his arms around him and held him for a moment. Cassander held him for a moment, and then sighed into his shoulder. "I told him that if he ever touched you again he would regret it."

"The cut on his neck," Hephaestion asked after remembering the mark he'd seen before he'd stormed away to find Cassander. No, that wasn't right. He hadn't meant to find Cassander. It was just fate that had led them both to the same place, staring at the same stars. When he'd seen Alexander, at Parmenion's request, he'd noticed the small red cut on his throat. He knew that it wasn't from shaving either.

"Persian daggers are sharp," Cassander said with a shrug as if it were the simplest thing in the world. He wanted Hephaestion to be horrified. At least then it would give him a reason to leave. It would give him a reason not to love him and go back to Alexander. Cassander knew that he'd be able to handle it if he thought he hated him. But he knew that if Hephaestion simply left, his heart would break, or at least what heart he had.

"Why?"

"Because…I knew that no one else would tell him. Not even you. That's part of you mythos. You have never denied Alexander anything, nor gone against him, nor told him not to lay his hands upon you."

"No," Hephaestion agreed. Tears then began to well in his eyes. He worried for Cassander, worried for what he'd been thinking when he'd decided to love him. Alexander would know. Alexander would be furious. Alexander would hate him. He pressed his lips to Cassander's, then put his forehead against his, holding the back of Cassander's head and in doing so holding them together. "Cassander you're so insane. What were you thinking? He'll hate you, he'll try to send you on some mission that you won't be able to win if he doesn't try to kill you himself. Cassander, you're so deranged! What were you thinking?"

"I don't know," Cassander said as he tightened his jaw. Hephaestion hated him, at least he did now. But Hephaestion didn't hate him. He reached out, and with two fingers turned Cassander back to face him.

"I love you," Hephaestion whispered quietly. "I just worry for you now. I worry about, about Alexander's rage."

"He won't touch me," was all Cassander could say. He paused then, retracing Hephaestion's words. Looking up at him Cassander pressed his lips against Hephaestion's. "I love you. I won't let him hurt you again."

Hephaestion looked at him. "I know."

0

0

0

Alexander screamed and picked up the vase, throwing it across the room. It shattered against the wall. Shards of porcelain flew threw the air. The Persian flowers fell to the floor quickly though, with the water that didn't splatter. The loud crash was enough to make Bagoas jump a little but he kept his eyes averted. Alexander began to pace again, but this time grabbed a metal vase and tossed it across the room. It clanged against a wall, falling bent to the floor on the opposite side of the room.

"Are you sure," he said as he spun around again to face Parmenion. "You did not see either of them all night?"

"Not since Hephaestion entered your room my lord," Parmenion replied. He wasn't sure what Alexander was fuming about. He'd just assumed that Hephaestion had not come to dinner because he was sound asleep in Alexander's bed. It had happened before. As for Cassander, how was he to know where Cassander was? Cassander was a free spirit and was likely roaming around with Persian women.

"Get out," Alexander ordered, and Parmenion exited quickly. Alexander continued to pace. He grabbed the chair from behind his writing desk and threw it across the room this time. It didn't break, Bagoas managed to note, glancing up just to see. He then cast his eyes back to the floor and stood with his hands behind his back.

"Cleitus," Alexander screamed. The doors opened and Cleitus entered. He didn't seem to even notice Alexander's fit. He was used to it, or at least Bagoas figured he must be. The man dressed in black Macedonian garments just waited for Alexander to speak to him. "Did you see Hephaestion last night?"

"No, my lord."

"What about Cassander? Did you see that son of the snake named Antipiter?"

"I'm not sure I follow," Cleitus said slowly.

"I will kill him," Alexander responded as he found another porcelain vase to throw. Cleitus watched as the vase shattered. A large chunk of porcelain flew back too close to Alexander. The king reached down, picked it up, and threw it back at the wall. Laughing to himself Cleitus glanced over at Bagoas. He wondered what the boy thought of this disrespect for the palace. "I'm going to tear the flesh from his skin until he can't even scream in pain because he doesn't realize it hurts! I'll let the vultures pick at his eyes! I'm going to kill him!"

"Which one, my lord?"

"Cassander! That son of a whore and snake. I'm going to make him beg at my feet for forgiveness, and then I'm going to rip his tongue from his mouth!"

"Over what Alexander?"

"Don't question me," Alexander spat venomously back at him. He picked up a scroll and threw it. He then completely tore apart another before falling back into a chair. He glanced up at Cleitus, remembering he was there. "Cleitus, go and find Cassander. Bring him to me."

"I don't understand."

"I'm going to kill him," Alexander screamed. "Just go, and take some men with you, and get him. He'll try to resist. Break his legs and arms if you have to. Just bring him to me or it will be you I tie up for the birds!"

Cleitus nodded and then stepped out of the room. He glanced at Ptolemy, and gave a slight nod. He made sure that the others and the guards did not see it though. Ptolemy acted as if he'd lost interest in the situation and started down the hall.

"Parmenion, Nearchus, and you there, Ajax, come with me. We must go to Hephaestion's rooms and see if perhaps Cassander is there. Let us go now, before Alexander gets angry with us."

As he led them to the left Ptolemy went to the right. As soon as he turned a corner he began to run. Turning down another smaller hall he almost fell, his feet sliding on the Persian floors. He stopped quickly at a door and pounded on it. He looked down the hall in both directions. Still no answer, so he pounded on the door again. Finally he heard movement from within. He pounded harder, hurry, this was no time to be slow Cassander. After a moment Cassander opened the door, a towel around himself, still dripping wet from a bath.

"Get out," Ptolemy said.

"What?"

"Alexander knows, or suspects, and you know its true. We all do. Cleitus has started at Hephaestion's room to look for the two of you. He'll soon be here though. Get out now, the both of you."

Ptolemy watched as Hephaestion pulled the door further open. He had at least dressed himself in the time that it had taken Ptolemy to explain things. There was nothing but fear in his eyes. He glanced over at Cassander and then with the tilt of a head told him to go get dressed. Meanwhile Hephaestion looked back to Ptolemy.

"Go with him," Ptolemy advised.

"I can't, it's my fault."

"He's wants to kill him Hephaestion," Ptolemy whispered. "I'm not saying he will, but he wants to. If you go with him you may be able to protect him. If you stay here, Alexander will just send men after him. Hundreds if he has to. He'll have them kill him, or beat him to a pulp before bringing him back so Alexander can finish him. If you don't go with him he doesn't stand a chance."

Hephaestion glanced over his shoulder. Cassander was packing a bag as quickly as he could. Hephaestion then turned his attentions back to Ptolemy. There was pain in his eyes. Ptolemy didn't want to see Hephaestion go but knew that he would.

"There are two horses waiting for you at the west gates. There are no guards. The chestnut has a bag containing some of you clothes. The black has the food, water, and some other supplies you may need. They are the fastest I could get. Hurry, the guards will only be away until they realize that Parmenion didn't call for them."

"How did you manage that," Hephaestion asked with a light smile.

"What can I say," Ptolemy said with a shrug. "We've all wanted to see your eyes as clear as they were when we left Pella years ago. We've all seen the deterioration. Secretly, we've always wanted you to leave, so that you could live. Hephaestion, go, and live freely for the rest of us. Hurry though!"

Hephaestion threw his arms around Ptolemy and whispered a thank you. He then left the room, Cassander following quickly behind him. Cassander threw a bag over his shoulder and they walked quickly down the hall, looking for others that would see them. Suddenly they heard footsteps and Ptolemy screamed at them to run. As they both looked back they saw a group of Alexander's new Persian fleet turn the corner. Hephaestion paused, not sure what to do, but Cassander immediately bolted. He grabbed Hephaestion and pulled him into a run as well.

Cassander ran down the hall until he saw a group of Macedonians turn down the other side of the hall. Cursing Cassander glanced over his shoulder and saw the group of Persians close behind. He glanced to the left, immediately running out onto a balcony. He pulled Hephaestion with him. Cassander glanced over the side and screamed out another curse in frustration. There was no way that they could jump without breaking at least one leg. He turned and saw the others begin to emerge onto the threshold of the balcony. Hephaestion threw himself in front of him, shielding Cassander's body with his. Cassander was stuck, his back against the rail of the balcony, and his chest against Hephaestion's back. Hephaestion wasn't going to let him move.

"Don't touch him," Hephaestion ordered as the Macedonians and Persians approached. The Macedonians didn't even have their weapons drawn. The Persians on the other hand held short golden handled daggers, some spears, in their grasp and were pointing them at the pair. The Macedonians glared at the Persians, knowing that weapons were not needed. Hephaestion and Cassander were not yet fighting. Cleitus stepped forward and motioned for the Persians to back away. They did, each man taking only two steps back. They were still ready to attack.

"We aren't here to hurt him," Cleitus assured Hephaestion. He glanced at Cassander, who held contempt into his eyes. He was ready to attack the first man that got near Hephaestion, or perhaps himself. Weapon or not he would still stand a fair chance. Cleitus took a few steps closer, Hephaestion chest heaving, and spoke in a lowered tone. "Are Alexander's accusations correct?"

"What is he accusing," Cassander asked spitefully, still trying to get Hephaestion to let him up a bit. Hephaestion didn't budge though. Cassander knew well enough that he wasn't going too easily. He made a wonderful shield, Cassander admitted, first for Alexander and now for him.

"Did you too share relations last night?"

"That stupid prince," Cassander screamed, lunging towards Cleitus, but being held back by Hephaestion as he did so. "He doesn't know anything anymore Cleitus. You know it too! He took that Persian whore, is wearing their robes, and thinks he's one of them. He's a fool yet you still pester me for him? Cleitus, have you no sense anymore, or any honor to Philip?"

"Of course, I honor Philip everyday by watching over Alexander. You would be wise to keep comments such as those in your mind. Otherwise he may hear…"

"Let him hear! Let him hear that I call him a fool! You have seen what he has done to Hephaestion, what he has done to all of us! Don't defend him Cleitus for you hate him as much as I in the end."

"But he doesn't say it," a Macedonian said objectively. Cleitus turned, beckoned the man with a glare to be silent. The Persians then began to creep forward again. Hephaestion immediately pushed Cassander back again and pointed to the Persians closest to him.

"Come any closer and I swear it," he screamed at them. A Persian came closer and Hephaestion turned slightly, pushing Cassander back. Cleitus yelled at the Persian, but he didn't listen. He came closer and raised a dagger. Hephaestion didn't notice that move, just lunged forwards and pushed the man back. The blade sliced through the muscle in Hephaestion's lower arm as Hephaestion dodged back to shield Cassander. He didn't notice the stinging or blood at first, but heard Cleitus yell at a Persian that spoke better Greek. Hephaestion glanced down at the blood, but didn't mind yet.

Cassander was desperately trying to push past him though so he could get a lick in at the man. Finally he pushed past Hephaestion and with the dagger he'd concealed at his waist approached the Persian. He violently, and rather madly, screamed in the Persian's face as he slid the blade into his throat. He pulled his arm back, dagger drenched in blood to the hilt, and let a spray of blood hit him in the face. The rest of the Persians were coming closer. Hephaestion grabbed Cassander and pulled him back.

"Stop this madness," a sudden order echoed it seemed in the hall. All turned and watched as Alexander walked through the parted line between the Macedonians and the Persians. He stopped beside Cleitus, and glanced down at the dead Persian. He then looked up at Hephaestion, who shielded Cassander, who was covered with blood. Alexander took a step closer, and Hephaestion took a step back. He was going to guard Cassander no matter the cost. "Move Hephaestion, I have no quarrel with you!"

"No," Hephaestion immediately shot back. Cassander put a hand on his arm. Cassander then looked at the blood that dripped from his arm. The cut was deep, but could have been worse. No major veins had been cut through. For that he was glad. But he wouldn't let Hephaestion protect him any longer. He tried to get past Hephaestion, and Hephaestion knew this, but refused for him to do so.

"Move," Alexander ordered, loudly, with anger dripping from his voice. He was loosing his patience. Everyone around him knew that he was. Cassander tried to get past Hephaestion once more, but Hephaestion glanced back at him and shook his head, whispering 'no'.

"It will be alright," Cassander said softly.

"Where is the dagger," Alexander asked as Cassander moved Hephaestion gently away from him. He pushed him to the side, then took a step in front of him. Cassander raised the blade in his hand, not even trying to hide it. He tossed to Cleitus, who caught it, and then crossed his arms.

"What now Alexander?"

"Don't even," Alexander said as he tried to step closer. Cleitus reached out and stopped Alexander with an arm. Hephaestion also stepped forward but Cassander reached back and stopped him with a hand. "Don't even begin to think you are better than me Cassander, son of Antipiter. You are nothing! Nothing without me!"

"But bigger," Cassander maliciously replied. This caused Alexander to try to push past Cleitus. Cleitus had to turn and stop Alexander with his whole body this time, pushing him back. He didn't want to see anything bad happen to Cassander, but knew the boy was digging his own grave.

"You son of a whore!"

"That would make us brothers."

"Agh! How dare you!" Alexander continued to try and get past Cleitus, but now Parmenion helped hold him back. Alexander continued to fight, and watched as Hephaestion took Cassander by the arm and tried to reason with him without speaking. Hephaestion then reached down and put a hand over his cut, and pressed to get the bleeding to slow. After a moment he was cradling his arm, the pain beginning to intensify. "You have taken the one thing in life I loved away from me!"

"I took nothing from you!"

"Is this what you want," Ptolemy finally asked Alexander, motioning to the dead Persian on the ground. He then motioned to Hephaestion, who was gritting his teeth and holding his bloody arm. "Is this what it has come to Alexander? Fighting amongst your own men?"

"Take him," Alexander screamed, staring at Cassander as he did so. "Get him out of my sight Cleitus! Put him with the helots while I decide how to kill him! Take him away, now!"

"Alexander," Hephaestion said as he stepped forward.

"Take him with you!"

"You hypocrite," Hephaestion accused. This time Cassander had to grab him and hold him back. "You charlatan! You have no reason for this. You've lost your mind here Alexander!"

"Cleitus," Alexander raged as he reddened all the more. He wanted to kill both of them now. He wanted to rip them both apart. "Get them now!"

Hephaestion lunged at the first man that tried to grab Cassander. It didn't matter to him that it was a Macedonian. They'd become the enemy. Before Alexander's eyes things fell apart. He watched, as Cleitus tried to pull him back, as Hephaestion began to fight. He watched Cassander fight all the same, but not for himself. He was trying to get to Hephaestion to pull him back. Alexander screamed for it to stop before it got worse. His cry was unheard though. A Persian struck Hephaestion hard on the back of the head, and he stumbled forward, and then fell to the ground. Oblivion claimed him before he'd hit the ground. Cassander screamed and darted through a pair of Macedonians, he threw himself over Hephaestion, trying to shield him. The butt of a Persian sword collided with the side of his head. He felt dizzy, the world spun, but he held on for Hephaestion. He was hit again in the back of the head. A kick to his right temple caused him to pass out though, his vision fading as he desperately gripped at Hephaestion.

As Alexander's cry was heard and both groups backed away from the two, they were both limp. Both were in complete blackness. Alexander pushed away from Cleitus so that he could better see. Both bled from wounds on their head, and Hephaestion's arm bled terribly. He ordered for Hephaestion to be taken to his room and treated. Cassander, on the other hand, was sent to the stockades where he'd be dealt with soon enough.


	8. Stockades

Title: "The Persian Campaign"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 8, "Stockades"

A/N: Thanks so much for the wonderful reviews I am getting. If I haven't directly written you back I'm sorry! To all, if there is anything you need feel free to ask and I'll reply. Hope that everyone is enjoying, and here is the next chapter!

0

0

0

It felt as if his head had been smashed against the same tock over, and over, and over again. He felt the pain riveting through his entire body. He tried to ignore it, but found himself wishing that Cassander would be there, to put more of that foreign yellow powder in wine for him. As he lay there, letting the feeling come back to parts of his body, he felt that his wrists were tied. Tied, and his arms were pulled up in the air. He tried to pull his arms down but couldn't, and moaned, trying in vain to do so again. For a moment he thought he heard someone tell him to stop. Then he couldn't hear anything.

He tried to open his eyes, and did so, but couldn't keep his lids from falling back shut. Everything was a blur, from what he'd seen. All he could think of was being hit, over, and over, and over. It felt like he had been, but knew vaguely what had happened earlier. It came back to him in shattered images, vague sound bites, but he knew. Yet now he couldn't tell if the back of his head hurt more than the front. Trying to cling to consciousness he once again forced his eyes open.

He couldn't focus on anything. Thinking, he knew that his pupils had to be dilated and clouded over. There it was, that soft voice again. Blurry vision, head spinning, he looked up at his arms. They were tied at the wrist by a thick cord, and the cord was tied to a post high above the bed. Again he vainly tried to pull, but nothing happened. It just shot pain through his entire arm and made his head scream. Once more his eyes fell shut, and once again he heard that voice, just above a whisper it seemed.

Forcing his eyes open he turned his head to the left. Weakly his eyes met with dark brown orbs. He blinked once, his eyes watering in pain, and then turned his head away. The other spoke, but he didn't hear him. For that he was glad. The world above him was spinning and he could only look at his arms. He tried to pull once more, crying out in pain as he did so, but this time a hand reached over and pushed his shoulder back down.

"Stop," he heard him order. Hephaestion wanted to spit at him but couldn't find the saliva to. He turned his head toward him no matter how much it hurt. He kept his eyes open no matter how badly they wanted to close. He glared, telling the other that he had no right to tell him what to do. He had no right to give an order to anyone. Bagoas didn't look at him though. He was busy mixing different herbs and juices in a pot. The Persian didn't even see the glare that Hephaestion was working so hard on. After a few moments he glanced up as Hephaestion tried to pull once more at his arms. He succeeded only in digging the thick cord deeper into his wrists, rubbing his skin raw, and if he continued it would soon tear and begin to bleed. Bagoas reached over and pushed his back to the bed again.

"Don't touch me," Hephaestion ordered. If he'd been stronger he would have lunged at him, arms tied or not. But he couldn't even stop the spinning in his head. He turned his head in the other direction. It felt as if his head was about to split in two, but he did it anyway, searching for Cassander. No, he wasn't there, and Hephaestion realized he was in his room. He wasn't in the stockades or in the medics quarters.

"You must keep the arm raised," Bagoas told him as he continued to mix ingredients together. Alexander had refused to give Hephaestion anything for the pain. He wanted him to suffer for a bit. He'd also refused to have a surgeon stitch the bleeding wound at his arm. Bagoas had been there, in a dark corner, when Alexander had screamed his orders to Cleitus, Nearchus, Ptolemy, and all of the other Macedonians that listened. It was very clear that Hephaestion was to suffer until he said otherwise. Alexander had left in a blind rage. After a few moments the only one that had stayed was Ptolemy.

The man had taken a seat next to Hephaestion and taken his hand in his own. Bagoas had listened as he'd silently apologized for not warning him sooner. Hephaestion couldn't hear him, and Bagoas knew the Macedonian knew, but he knew also that Ptolemy would say it again when he woke. Ptolemy had also promised to see the other one, Cassander, and had then left the room. Only then did Bagoas leave his corner of shadows and come forward. Alexander had made a mistake in leaving the wound to Hephaestion's arm open. Blood still trickled from the edges and began to soak into the sheets. The blood was slowing not because the wound was healing but because Hephaestion was running out of blood.

Bagoas had tied his wrists together, and brought over a pole, and tied the rope tightly to it. Elevating his arms would keep most of the blood in his body from pumping upwards. Therefore the wound would not bleed so. When Alexander returned, which he would eventually to allow the wound to be stitched, at least Hephaestion wouldn't be dead. Yet Bagoas didn't stop there. It was hard to know that this general would wake and no sedative of any kind would be given to him. He'd thought about offering him wine, but Alexander would know if he returned that Hephaestion had drunk it. But Bagoas had also watched Hephaestion at the dinners he had attended. This one wasn't like the other pigs, he cared not for the drink, and more for the company. Most of all, Alexander's which he'd taken from him, so in a way he was in debt to the beautiful one.

He had begun at once, working on the mixture he still held on his lap. It was hard to find all of the herbs in one area so it had taken too long for him to start. He'd hoped to get it done by the time Hephaestion awoke but knew that this would have to do. Again, as he ground another leaf at the bottom of the pot, the Macedonian tried to sit up. He pulled again at his wrist and this time felt the cord dig into his flesh. He screamed not in pain, but anger, and continued to tear at his hands.

"Stop," Bagoas ordered, pushing him back. For a man that could not see straight he was foolish to try and fight with him. But Bagoas smiled quickly. He liked the fact that this one was so headstrong. It reminded him of what he wished he could be. Hephaestion pulled again and Bagoas didn't try to stop him, for at least he was lying down. "You're only hurting yourself."

"Where is Cassander?" Hephaestion couldn't think of anything else to say to the Persian. He just wanted to know where Cassander was. What had Alexander done to him? Bagoas watched for a moment as Hephaestion wreathed in agony. Most men would have been screaming in pain, but this one was a true fighter, or a headstrong idiot. It depended on how you looked at the situation.

"The stockades," Bagoas answered quietly as he put the mixing grinder down. He then poured the mixture into a cup and came closer to Hephaestion. He tried to put it to the general's lips but he turned his head, despite the pain. Bagoas moved his arm closer but Hephaestion turned his head the other way. All the while he pulled at his wrists and tried to get away. Bagoas finally put a hand on his shoulder to keep him from wriggling in another direction. "It will lessen the pain. I swear it."

"No," Hephaestion said as he recalled the last pain deterrent he had taken. He tried to move again but Bagoas grabbed his throat. With the other hand he forced his mouth open and poured the thick liquid down his throat. Hephaestion tried to fight him, tried to pull free, but couldn't. It wasn't only his weak body, but he couldn't move his arms. Bagoas let him go as soon as he swallowed, for if he didn't he was going to choke to death. That wouldn't do anyone any good. Had he not cared about Cassander he would have let Bagoas kill him though, it would be far better than staying and having to look at him, waiting for Alexander to come and do it.

"See what you have done," Bagoas said as he tried to loosen the cord around Hephaestion's wrists. He pulled the cord down, getting it to where it had been. He then glanced at Hephaestion. His eyes were rolling back in his head, but he was still trying to fight, still not giving up. A fighter, not an idiot, he decided. "More sleep would be good for you."

"Go away!"

"I can't," Bagoas admitted. "If I leave, and Alexander comes back, he'll want to know why you are tied. I must watch you, should something happen, I must be here."

"Go back to Alexander," Hephaestion said weakly as he fought to keep his eyes open. "Tell him that I don't need his whore to take care of me."

"I'm not under his orders. I do this myself. If Alexander knew, he'd have me beaten, like your new lover. He's there now. The last thing I heard as I was collecting herbs was that he was trying to make him scream. That other one, Cassander, he won't scream. I wish he would scream," Bagoas then said quietly.

"Untie me."

"Your arm will only bleed worse. Besides, if I let you go you'll not do any good. You'll only risk your life to try to save another. It's good of you," Bagoas said in a whisper. "But it's foolish of you."

"Let me go," Hephaestion said as he pulled at his hands again. Bagoas looked away from him. He didn't want to see him in pain, even though he knew that the general would love to see him in pain. Bagoas merely shook his head and then stood. He crossed the room and sat facing the balcony so he could look out at the world. As he did, he tried not to let Hephaestion's screams disturb him. Soon, he would be asleep again. Then he could release him without fearing for his life at the same time.

0

0

0

He tried to remember the things that hurt. His head, the entire thing, felt like it had been smashed by a Titan's fist. He could feel the copper taste of blood in his mouth, and could not decide if it was from his tongue, or from his lips. The top lip was cut at the left. The bottom was split at the right. His right eye was swelling shut, his jaw was likely broken somewhere, but he couldn't feel it. He knew that two of his fingers were broken even though he'd lost the feeling in his arms long ago. His back had been lashed and he knew that some of the lashes of the whip had sliced through the skin, others had left welts. What else hurt?

His chest, where it had been slowly cut, that hurt. It had hurt more when Alexander had dug his fingers into the cuts and tried to tear the flesh back, but it still hurt now. His right ankle was broken, or at least he thought that it was. He knew that his left thigh had at least thirty small cuts, each one from the tip of a dagger being dug into the flesh. It hurt terribly, but luckily, he was loosing consciousness again. There was a pause in his thoughts, no he wasn't, he was awakening from being unconscious. That's why it was all beginning to hurt again.

Just when he thought that perhaps Alexander was not there he heard a noise. Then, a liquid was thrown onto his chest, a rich Persian alcohol. Cassander bit his tongue rather than scream because he knew that that was what Alexander wanted him to do. But he wasn't going to scream, wasn't going to let him win. As he bit his tongue he felt the burning sensation of the alcohol in the cuts. It burned and he wanted so badly to pass out again.

"Well," Alexander asked as he punched the side of Cassander's face again. He hit him three more times, each blow stronger than the other. Cassander almost fell, would have fallen, if his arms wouldn't have been chained up. Alexander laughed and quickly hit him again. Cassander's legs gave out and he then hung only by his arms. Alexander picked up the dagger Cassander had been in possession of earlier and slid the blade over a muscle in his arm. "How does it feel Cassander? Does it feel good when people tear from you all that you have?"

"Oh," Cassander said with a pained laugh. "Are we still talking about Hephaestion?"

Alexander punched Cassander again. He grabbed him by the face then, the bloody face that he had left at least, and jerked his head forward. Cassander stared back at him, one eye fine, theand the other slowly swelling shut. He dug his fingers into his pained flesh and thought again of just killing him and getting it over with. This was much more interesting though.

"You took him from me," Alexander screamed. "You took the one thing that I cared about! You could have killed me, taken the throne, and I would have still loved you in death. But not now Cassander! You crossed a line you were never meant to even look at!"

"What hurt more," Cassander asked. He'd decided long ago that if Alexander was going to kill him, he might as well taunt him before he did so. Alexander could hurt him with weapons and his fists, but Cassander knew how to hurt him. All he had to do was use the right words. "Was it that Hephaestion left you, or that you found out I was a better lover?"

Alexander hit him again. Cassander let the blood pour from his mouth. He spit what he could out before laughing. It wasn't a time to be laughing. But the pain was so great Cassander knew he was on the verge of hysteria. He kept going with Alexander though. A few more hits and he would return to blackness. Blackness, where nothing hurt, and he could at least be left in peace to think of Hephaestion. Where was he? Cassander knew Alexander would not beat him, wouldn't kill him, but he'd still like to know. He'd like to see his cerulean eyes again before…

"Shut up," Alexander screamed as he punched him in the chest, directly over a cut this time. The force and rush of pain pulled Cassander from his thoughts. Again he felt the pain in all of his body. It was so lesser a pain when he thought of Hephaestion.

"Is that why he left, I wonder," Cassander only continued, blood still oozing over his lower lip. Maybe he shouldn't have bit his tongue so hard. That was probably where most of the blood was coming from. "Was it because you hit him, or because you couldn't satisfy him?"

Again, another hit. Cassander's back hit the stone wall. He tried to stand, tried to bring his legs up, but the strength was still not there. It hurt, everything, and he knew that he was about to die if it didn't stop. He needed another break. He needed to go back to the blackness for awhile. Why wasn't he going back to that place? He suddenly felt his body growing tired again, the numbness, it would be soon now.

"Don't even begin to talk about him," Alexander ordered. He had turned, gone back to the table, picked up the dagger. Cassander knew that there was only one thing that Alexander could do with that blade to really piss him off. Luckily Alexander had not thought of that though. Cassander laughed in his head. Give him time, maybe he would.

"Maybe its you," Cassander continued. "Is that why there is no heir? Is something not working?"

Another slice to the inner thigh with the blade. He wanted to die. He knew what the scars would look like. He would actually welcome death at this moment. Cassander wondered where the reaper was when you needed him. Off taking mothers, young babes, warriors in far off lands, but not him. Had he ever asked the gods for much? Couldn't one of them just come for him yet?

"Alexander," a voice screamed. Even with his eyes closed Cassander knew who it was. A slight smile played at his lips as he heard the new man rush forward and grab Alexander.

"Cleitus," Cassander whispered as he hung from the wall. "How nice of you to stop by."

"Alexander," Cleitus said as he shook the king. "What are you thinking? You fool! You cannot do this Alexander. This is wrong. The gods will curse you."

"They already have," Cassander said with a laugh before more blood spilled from his mouth. He tilted his head back and tried to swallow it instead. He wondered where blood went when you swallowed it. Was it like wine, would it pass through, would it reenter his body somehow? He'd have to ask a wise healer about that if he lived to get the chance.

"Stop," Cleitus warned Cassander. "You're already in enough trouble without that tongue of yours."

"Who said I didn't use my tongue?"

Alexander rushed past Cleitus and drove the dagger into Cassander's shoulder. Cassander bit his lower lip, but still didn't scream. He felt the blade being removed. So, this would be the last blow. Cassander opened his eyes and turned his head to see the wound. No, not fatal, just painful. Again the world spun and blood poured from his mouth. Still, no reaper, no blackness to fall into.

"Alexander," Cleitus said as he grabbed him, "you are burning with fever. Stop this, you don't know what you're doing!"

"Yes I do!"

"No he doesn't," Cassander shot back. He continued, speech beginning to slip into insanity, mind wandering, not caring if anyone else listened. "I already told you Cleitus, he is a broken man. He doesn't…I need to see…Hephaestion…blue eyes…before…"

0

0

0

Even in his sleep he felt his arms fall onto his chest. He then felt something being tied around his arm. Was it a tourniquet? Slowly he tried to open his eyes and turn his head. He looked at Bagoas, who glanced up at him as he untied his wrists. For the first time it had occurred to him to wonder why he was helping him. They hated each other. Why would Bagoas go through all this trouble and risk a beating to save him?

"Alexander sleeps," Bagoas informed him. Hephaestion glanced around the room. Yes, candles, night. The Persian continued to untie him, unbinding his wrists, and continued to speak. "Cassander is badly hurt. You need to go to him, get yourselves out of here. The other friend of yours, Ptolemy I think, says his offer is still good. I think you should take it."

"Why are you helping me?"

"What do I have to loose?"

"What do you have to gain?"

"Alexander I suppose," Bagoas said with a shrug. "If you leave, you leave Alexander behind. That means that I will have him to myself. But if you leave you also take Cassander with you. He may or may not love you. But you'll be free of Alexander. I hear them speak, while I listen, and they say he's slowly killing you from the inside out. Is it true?"

"A little."

"Then I advise you to go. If you ever want to come back, you will find him. He'll let you back. But right now you must worry about Cassander. Alexander is angry with him, and the others talk. They speak of what Alexander will do to him. Few have golden daggers on how long it will take Cassander's body to burn."

Hephaestion was standing, and it was as if he'd never done it before. After a moment, and a steady arm supplied by Bagoas, he wasn't spinning anymore. He was exhausted. He was dehydrated. His body ached and it was hard to stay awake and stop his eyes from closing it seemed. But it was better. He knew now that he had to get to Cassander. As he began to leave the room Bagoas held him back, stepping out first, and then motioned for him to follow.

"Come," Bagoas said as he led him to a door. He pushed the door open, motioning for Hephaestion to wait. He entered the room, then came back and grabbed Hephaestion's wrist. He pulled him into the room and shut the door quietly. "He is over here."

Hephaestion entered the room and as soon as he did let out a horrified gasp. He had to turn back around, grabbing his hair, and kneeling to the ground. For a moment he just breathed heavily, wheezing almost, coughing. He then, crying, stood and turned back around. The sight of Cassander would have been enough to make anyone cry. Hephaestion went to his side, sinking down on the bed beside him, and tried to look him over without feeling sick. Each would that covered his body was not only stitched, but also black and blue all around the area. Hephaestion lightly touched his brow above the puffy flesh that was forcing his eye shut. The other has a cut running just by the corner, millimeters away from taking the eye.

"Cass," Hephaestion said in a tearful whisper as he took his hand. He was careful not to move the broken fingers, which had been set in small splints. Hephaestion wrapped his fingers around Cassander's, felt the cold in his hand, and squeezed it softly. With his other hand he tried to wipe his tears away but they kept coming. This was his fault.

"You're touching," Cassander said weakly after a long silence where only Hephaestion's tears could be heard. He didn't try to open his eyes. Instead he continued to be in both worlds, the one where blackness surrounded him, and one where there was his myth. Hephaestion's head shot up and he leaned closer, placing a kiss lightly on Cassander's lips.

"I'm sorry Cassander," Hephaestion said as he brushed a lock of hair away from Cassander's forehead. Cassander lightly squeezed Hephaestion's hand and then shook his head.

"I'm alive," he said, his tongue swollen and aching. He wondered if Hephaestion could understand him. He held onto his hand and smiled, even though it tore at his lips. "Don't cry until I die."

"He won't die," Bagoas whispered. He was nervously looking over his shoulder. "His wounds will need the salve in the bag at the end of the bed. I put things in there, should you get fever, or more injuries. There are needles in there. You can see to your arm yourself?"

Hephaestion nodded.

"Hurry," Bagoas told Hephaestion. He came forward and helped Hephaestion pull Cassander out of the bed. Cassander tried to stand, to help Hephaestion more than the Persian, which brought up another question. Why was the Persian here?

"What are we doing," Cassander asked instead.

"Away," Hephaestion said. "I'm not sure yet. But we can't stay here. The horses are still at the west gate. We just have to get you to them and I promise that we'll go wherever you want. I won't let Alexander come between us. I won't let him have you. He won't find us, even if he looks, I promise."

"You think I look bad," Cassander laughed as they fled down the hall. "You should see him."

Hephaestion glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone was coming from behind. He knew that Alexander had guards. He knew that they could be caught again. But it couldn't happen, not again. They needed to get out. He could only hope that this time the Fates would be on their side.


	9. Missing the Fleeing

Title: "The Persian Campaign"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 9, "Missing the Fleeing"

A/N: See? I did let them get away. But the question becomes, will Alexander let them get away?

0

0

0

"We've searched the palace, the markets, every room in the city," Nearchus said, staring at Alexander, who was still fuming. "They are nowhere to be found Alexander."

"We have to find them," Alexander said as he crossed his arms. He stared out at the dark clouds in the sky. Rain poured heavily from them. He knew that Hephaestion was out there somewhere, and he wanted to shelter him, but didn't know where to begin. His fever had lessened, but he could still remember everything that he had done. Each and every harsh word, each blow to Cassander, each cut he'd inflicted not only of the flesh, but also in the heart and soul of Hephaestion. Tears began to form at his eyes. "We have to find them Cleitus."

He looked down at the goblet that was in his hand. Once again he dipped his finger in it and let a drop fall to the ground, then tasted a drop. It was as if he thought that in the moment that he'd held it without looking at it, it could once again be filled with the poison that had tried to take his mind. He dripped another drop from his finger and then brought the goblet to his lips. He drank lightly, knowing what the doctors had told him. He should be drinking boiled water and goat milk.

"We won't be able to find anything in this weather," Cleitus told his king. He came a little closer, looking out at the pouring rain with Alexander. They both worried. Alexander worried for even Cassander out of guilt, even though he'd never be able to forgive him. "When the rain stops their tracks will have washed away."

"Hephaestion won't leave tracks," Alexander spoke in a soft tone, because he didn't want to admit it out loud, just in case Hephaestion had left some sort of tracks to follow. "He's too smart for that."

"He is also wise enough to get out of the rain. We will find them soon enough Alexander. Wait for the rain to cease, and then you can ride out. Until then there is nothing you can do."

Alexander continued to stare out at the dark abyss before him. He wanted to find Hephaestion. He wanted to wrap his arms around him and hold him, tell him the things that he hadn't said. It was the poison that had made him mad. He wouldn't have told him the things he did otherwise. He wouldn't have tortured Cassander, well, maybe he would have a little. Still he couldn't believe it, not truly. He was with Bagoas, that he could believe. But Hephaestion…and Cassander…together.

Maybe the hurt of it shocked him the most. Hephaestion had never looked at another, never touched another, and had never even thought about another. Alexander had, and Hephaestion had always sat by, knowing that he would return. Yet Alexander had taken advantage of that. He knew this now. He'd let Hephaestion slip away. What a fool he was, to think that Hephaestion couldn't love another. He could. Hephaestion would give his heart to another, if that other was deserving, and that was Cassander.

"Alexander," Ptolemy said from across the room, "how do you want us to begin the investigation?"

Alexander glanced over at Cleitus. He didn't know. He even doubted that they would be able to find whoever had put the poison in his drink. It was a Persian, likely, but that person wouldn't confess. They would be a fool to. The poison hadn't killed him though, only made him mad. But maybe that was worse, for he'd ruined the best thing that had ever come to him. He'd ruined his own legend. No longer did Achilles have his Patroclaus, he had nothing, and Patroclaus had...Cassander.

_"I liked being your whore."_

The words echoed in his mind. Hephaestion wasn't his whore. He'd never wanted him to be his whore. How had Hephaestion begun to feel like such was true? He knew though, knew it had been his neglect. Sighing he tried to look away from the balcony. He just wanted the gods to make the rain stop. They were mocking him. Where was Hephaestion now?

"Just find whoever did it," Alexander told Ptolemy. If Hephaestion were here, he knew that Hephaestion would have already found out. But he wasn't. Maybe that was part of the reason that someone had been able to poison him in the first place. Because he'd pushed Hephaestion, his only shield from the world, away. The king said nothing more, just went back to staring out at the darkened world. He only wanted Hephaestion to be back at the palace, even if he hated him, because he'd be safer. Thinking of it, maybe he was wrong. Maybe Hephaestion was safer with Cassander out in the rain.

0

0

0

Another bolt of lightning spilt the sky, lighting the cave for just a moment. Cassander glanced out at the gray world. He'd never been fond of the rain but for the moment didn't mind it. He sat against the wall of the cave, listened to the dripping rain from a crack somewhere, and all the other sounds that surrounded him. He glanced over at Hephaestion, who was threading a sharp hooked needle. Cassander watched as Hephaestion dug the needle under his skin. He didn't even appear to notice the pain it should have caused. He just began to stitch the two sides of flesh back together as if he did it all the time.

"It's going to get infected," Cassander said quietly, his body still aching. He knew that the flesh around the wound was already reddening. At the edges the skin was the darkest sanguineous color. It was the sign of infection, which would lead to fever, and then who knew what.

"What," Hephaestion said, glancing up. The small fire was enough to light up his face. Cassander watched as the flames danced in his cerulean eyes, making them sparkle. He was so beautiful.

"You need to wash it out with something first," Cassander told him. He then let his eyes blink shut for a moment. He heard Hephaestion get up slowly and it caused his eyes to open. Hephaestion stuck his arm out of the cave and let the rain pour onto his arm. He then drew it back and came back to the small fire. He blew at the wound for a moment and then began to stitch it again. Cassander still looked at him, and Hephaestion glanced up, with a soft smile.

"It's all we have," he said quietly as he began to stitch at the wound again. Bagoas had given him plenty of needles, but he'd given him an even greater deal of thread. Apparently he'd worried about the stitches all over Cassander's body opening up. Cassander only blinked and began to sit up again. Hephaestion wanted to help him but didn't. He knew that Cassander wanted to be independent, that was his flaw. He wouldn't let that independence go, he wouldn't let another into his heart, but he was learning to. Hephaestion finished his work and crawled over next to Cassander.

Cassander put his arm on Hephaestion's thigh and then turned himself so that he could lean against him. He rested his head on Hephaestion's chest and thought of sleeping. Yet he couldn't sleep. He still knew that Alexander would be trying to find them soon. They both knew. Hephaestion put his hand through Cassander's hair and stared down at him. He knew that Cassander was still awake, even though his eyes were closed, and his breathing was light.

"Cass," he whispered quietly, "I'm sorry."

"I know. It's not your fault though. You're not responsible for his actions. Besides, three fourths of these were because I opened my mouth."

"Which is now swollen," Hephaestion mentioned as he ran a finger over Cassander's lower lip. Cassander liked the slight tingling feeling that it caused. But he also wanted so badly to sleep. He felt himself drifting away, and Hephaestion held him. He couldn't leave him alone thought. He had to stay awake, incase someone came, so he could protect him. Hephaestion sensed that he was trying to desperately hold on though. "Cassander, sleep."

"No," he whispered, about to fall asleep as he spoke. "I'm fine."

"Sleep," Hephaestion whispered as he kissed the top of Cassander's head. Within a few moments Cassander was sleeping. A soft noise escaped his lips every time he breathed in and out. It was hard for him to breathe, and he couldn't breathe from his nose. Hephaestion turned his head, still softly playing with Cassander's hair, and stared out at the dark clouds. He wondered if it always rained here so or if the gods were angry. It was a stupid thought though, the gods weren't protecting him, and they weren't protecting Alexander. It was just rain.

He sat there for some time, just staring at the rain. After a few moments he felt a memory creeping up on him. As he stared out, time slipped backward, and he was once again in Pella. He remembered it so clearly. There was nothing to do to push it away. It had already taken over him.

_"Alexander," Hephaestion screamed from under the large rock that was now serving as a slight shelter. The rock jetted out from the side of the cliff. The rain poured as if it would never end. Hephaestion was wet, cold, and he wanted to go home. But they couldn't go home. The grayness of the sky and the blinding rain had made it so they couldn't even see their way. _

_Alexander didn't mind though. He was having a wonderful time standing in the rain, palms up, staring up at the heavens with his mouth open. Hephaestion watched him, wishing he would at least try to get out of the rain. He also wanted to snuggle up next to him, for he was freezing. Alexander didn't seem to know that the rain was freezing. Hephaestion watched as Alexander spun around again, tempting the gods to throw lighting on him. _

_"Alexander," Hephaestion screamed again. Now he was just angry. Alexander was such a fool. He was going to catch pneumonia and die if he didn't stop this stupidity. He couldn't hear him though. Not only did he not want to, the rains would not allow it. Hephaestion cursed before crawling out from under the rock. He hadn't seen Alexander be so careless since they were children. He would have hoped that Alexander would have matured by sixteen, but he apparently hadn't. _

_"Alexander!" _

_Finally when he got close enough Alexander turned, lowered his head, and looked down at him. Hephaestion was soaked now just as much as he was. His brown hair fell in messy wet locks down to his shoulders. Dark hairs covered his face. When he screamed his name rain flew from his lips. He was trembling, and it made Alexander laugh, because it wasn't that cold out. _

_"What are you doing," Hephaestion asked. Alexander laughed for a split second. It only made Hephaestion angrier. Poor Hephaestion, he probably thought that he was going to catch a cold. _

_"Look at it Phae," Alexander said as he motioned to the craziness around them. He grabbed Hephaestion and pulled him to him, kissing his trembling lips. Hephaestion kissed him back, angry or not, the rain covering both of them. The grayness and mass hysteria shielding them from the world they'd left behind. When the kiss ended Alexander put a hand to Hephaestion's cold cheek and rubbed his thumb over his lower lip. "You're cold."_

_"We're in the rain," Hephaestion said loudly, hoping that Alexander could hear him over the pouring rain. Alexander only stepped back and stared up at the skies again. Hephaestion threw his hands up in frustration. "What the hell are you doing Alexander?"_

_"Do it," Alexander said as he took Hephaestion's arms and held them out. Hephaestion was clearly not in the mood for experimenting. But he let Alexander raise his arms to his sides and turn his palms up. Alexander then came and stood behind him. He put a hand over Hephaestion's eyes, and Hephaestion shut them, but Alexander didn't move his hand. The other hand he put on Hephaestion's chest and held him. "Open your mouth, taste it Hephaestion." _

_"I'll drown!" _

_"No you won't," Alexander said into his ear. "I promise, I won't let you drown. Just do it. It feels wonderful. It's a gift from the gods Hephaestion. You'll anger them if you don't taste it."_

_After mumbling some inaudible displeasure Hephaestion opened his mouth. He wasn't drowning. It actually felt exhilarating, standing in the freezing rain, which for the moment didn't seem so cold with Alexander holding him. But he felt Alexander letting go of him, and knew he was stepping away. He didn't move though, instead he listened to the rain, tasted it as it trickled into his mouth. He stood there for who knew how long before opening his eyes and looking around for Alexander. At first he didn't see him, but he then saw him sitting under the rock shelter. Hephaestion immediately left the rain and climbed under the rock beside him. _

_"Why did you leave me," Hephaestion asked as he took a hand and wiped wet hair away from his face. He felt cold again until Alexander wrapped his arms around him. They held each other and the world seemed warmer. Alexander only laughed slightly in his ear. _

_"I knew that you'd come back once you felt it," he said. He knew that Hephaestion had felt it. It was a tingling feeling that you got, then a numb feeling, where your mind was clear. Then suddenly, you just knew. It was the realization of love. Alexander held him, and Hephaestion held him back just as tight, and when the rain stopped they didn't move. _

Hephaestion continued to stare out at the grayness. He thought about standing in the rain, soaked to the bone, and thought of the feeling he'd felt. It had felt so real then, the love they shared. But it had changed somewhere between Pella and Persia. Now, who knew what it was. He found himself glancing down at Cassander. After a few minutes he carefully moved away from Cassander. Careful not to wake him he rested Cassander's head against a bag of clothing.

He then stepped out into the rain. For a moment he just closed his eyes and let the rain hit him from every direction. He let his hair fall in front of his face, let the rain soak into his clothes, chilling him. He opened his eyes, stared out at the grayness that clouded the world so that you couldn't see very far in front of yourself. He then raised his arms, putting his palms up, and tilted his head back. He watched the rain hit him for a second before closing his eyes and opening him mouth.

0

0

0

Alexander walked out onto the balcony, wearing nothing put a pair of Persian pants. He stared out at the rain. He felt his heart breaking, felt his life slipping away from him for the first time in his life. Putting his hands on the stone ledge he looked out at the world. It was as if doing so would bring Hephaestion back to him. After a moment he screamed as loud as he could, just as thunder echoed across the land.

"Hephaestion," he screamed as loudly as he could. He then sunk down to the stone beneath him. He leaned forward, his head resting against the ledge, his body soaking in the rain. He found himself crying, and it didn't matter. Whoever had tried to claim his life had not succeeded. They had done far worse. They'd caused him to loose Hephaestion.

No, Hephaestion had already begun fading away from him, he admitted. But this poison, this land, this adventure, this broken myth, had caused the demise. Hephaestion was gone. It was his fault, it was the poison's fault, but most of all it was the Fates. He cried, thinking of nothing but Hephaestion. Without him he was nothing. He could already feel himself slipping away from the world. He cursed loudly at the gods for taking Hephaestion away.

"Hephaestion," he cried out weakly, unable to stand, only able to cry. "Come back…by the breath of Aphrodite…I love you…I can't live without you…just come back…Don't leave me alone…there is only you…we are one…Phae, I love you."


	10. Complications

Title: "The Persian Campaign" 

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 10, "Complications"

A/N: Once again thank you for the reviews. As they famously say, the plot is thickening. Relax, and let us see where it goes! I hope you enjoy. Reviews from all, still appreciated! To those of you that always review, and you know whom you are, thanks so much! I love you all so much. If you've reviewed once, I love you half as much.

0

0

0

He continued ahead, not sure whether or not he should worry about others finding them. The rain had washed away any tracks they could have left. But at the same time it had eroded many of the hills and paths they were trying to take. Since morning they had been riding. Yet already they had to turn around twice and find new ways to get around the countryside. He glanced back, then pulled his horse to a stop. His companion's head was down, his chin touching his chest, dark hair falling in front of his face. Luckily his horse stopped before hitting the other in the rear. For Hephaestion hadn't even managed to glance up in the last twenty minutes.

"Hephaestion," Cassander said as he turned around the best he could. Hephaestion did not move at first. He didn't even seem to notice. Cassander turned his horse around and brought it up next to Hephaestion's. He reached out and gripped Hephaestion's shoulder. After a few seconds, and a shake, Hephaestion's eyes slowly opened and he looked over at Cassander. "Let me see your arm."

Hephaestion just stared at him for a moment. His eyes were glazed over with what Cassander feared was sickness. Cassander reached over at took Hephaestion's arm. He turned it over and looked at the wound that covered most of his lower arm. The stitches were fine, but the cut wasn't. Dark irritated red flesh surrounded the edges of the wound, a sign of the beginning of infection. Cassander ran a finger over the edge of the wound, where the dark red flesh was beginning to dry and flake. Hephaestion let out a soft sigh of pain, but didn't scream. Cassander was instantly worried.

"Hephaestion," Cassander said as he put a hand on his cheek. He turned Hephaestion's head to him so that he was looking at him. Not looking, his eyes were closed, but he moaned slightly. Cassander raised one of Hephaestion's eyelids. His eyes were drawn back, red where they should be white. Fever, infection, Cassander had seen it before. Cassander screamed out a curse to the gods. He then pulled Hephaestion from his horse and onto his. Hephaestion faced him, still trying to sleep even as Cassander put his head on his shoulder, and wrapped Hephaestion's arms around his waist. Cassander reached over to the chestnut horse and pulled a bag from it. He then pulled his horse back so that he could unbridle the chestnut. As soon as it was let free the chestnut took off in a gallop in the opposite direction, disappearing quickly.

"Hephaestion," Cassander said as he put a hand on his back, "I know this is going to be hard but you can't sleep."

"Hmm," Hephaestion moaned as Cassander rubbed a hand up and down his back. He didn't do it tenderly. He rubbed hard, hoping that it would keep Hephaestion from sleeping. Hephaestion moaned again, so Cassander continued to rub him as he urged the stead forward. They needed to get out of the damned forest. Sadly, Cassander had to admit that he needed help, and they would find that in Babylon.

"Tell me a story," Cassander said as he looked around at their surroundings. He felt Hephaestion's breath against his neck. It was faint. Cassander didn't get a response and began to rub once more on Hephaestion's back. Hephaestion moaned again, this time mumbling something that Cassander couldn't understand. "I need you to stay awake and keep me company Hephaestion. Tell me a story, will you. Just start talking alright?"

"A story," Hephaestion whispered. His forehead rested against Cassander's shoulder. Even through the thin layer of cloth Cassander could feel his temperature rising. He kicked the horse, wishing it could go faster, but knew it couldn't with the extra weight. Not to mention it would only exhaust the horse quicker. He was lost, and he hated the fact of not knowing where he was going. It wouldn't matter if Hephaestion wasn't catching a fever, but he was, and he needed help.

"Tell me something," Cassander pleaded with Hephaestion. "Tell me a story. Tell me about Pella, about Alexander, just tell me something."

"I'm mad…at Alexander."

"I know, but just tell me a story. Tell me something that I wasn't listening to when Aristotle tutored us. Just don't leave me alone, promise not to leave me alone!"

"I won't," Hephaestion said quietly. After a few seconds he faintly began to tell a tale. His voice was soft, but Cassander could hear him. He watched the path the horse was taking, weaving around trees, and looking out for areas where the mud was about to slide away. "Do you remember…when we stole…Olympias' earrings?"

"The golden ones with the blue stones," Cassander said with a laugh. Actually, he hadn't remembered it until Hephaestion had mentioned it. Long ago Alexander had taken to Hephaestion, when they were children, and the other boys had teased him terribly. Cassander had teased him terribly. They had called him a coward when he wouldn't kill a stag in the woods, but he said he didn't want to kill. So Ptolemy had suggested they give him something else to prove his maturity, and his manhood. Hephaestion had agreed before hearing it, not wanting to be robbed of his dignity.

Ptolemy was cruel though, which Cassander had liked at the time. He told Hephaestion he would have to take something of Olympias' and bring it back to them. It would be proof. Alexander was at first skeptical, because he knew that Olympias would be furious if anything of hers went missing. Especially the earrings that Ptolemy wanted Hephaestion to take. Poor Hephaestion, he wouldn't back up though, even when Alexander told everyone they needed to do something else. Hephaestion had silenced him, telling him he could do it. Alexander was worried. Yet Cassander had told Alexander that he would go with him, just to make sure that nothing happened. He was going to be the lookout.

"Yes," Hephaestion continued quietly. "That pair."

"Tell me again what happened," Cassander said. He remembered it in detail now that he thought about it. But he wanted Hephaestion to keep on talking. After a few moments of silence, and a gentle rub on the back, Hephaestion sucked in a pained breath and began to talk again.

"I was scared, but you were coming with me. So I wasn't as scared. Even though," he said after a few seconds of just breathing. "I…thought that you would…lock me in the room or something. But…you didn't…and…I took…her earrings."

"Yes, you did."

"Olympias was so angry with me…but Alexander told her not to be…and she smiled…and sat us both down. Do you remember that?"

"I may, what did she tell us?"

"She said…that we were mischievous…and were lucky…a snake didn't strike us. Then…she gave us each…a kiss on the forehead…and a golden…band. She said that…we must always…protect Alexander…but we must never…forget that we too…would be men…one day…and we must…protect ourselves."

Cassander tenderly rubbed Hephaestion's back. After some time of trying to catch his breath Hephaestion began to recite lines from the _Iliad_. Cassander knew that it was Alexander's favorite tale of all time. It didn't bother him, for he actually liked the story of Achilles as well. Hephaestion weakly continued to recite, at times saying the same line over and over again for a few minutes. It only made Cassander worry for him. But eventually he would go to the next line and wouldn't repeat anything again for some time.

Cassander continued to look around at their surroundings. After a long while, and a lot of Hephaestion's pained narration, Cassander came to a spot he thought he recognized. He pulled the horse to a stop and looked around for a moment. He had to look up at the trees, and then back at the ground. All the while Hephaestion still obediently continued to tell the story of Achilles. They'd just come to the part where he was demanding Briseis back from King Agamemnon. Cassander looked in front of them at the muddied trail. He knew that this would be a dangerous route to take, but Cassander was also sure that it would lead them back to Babylon.

"Why are we stopping," Hephaestion asked weakly. He turned his head, his forehead suddenly resting against Cassander's temple. He couldn't turn his head any further though. Instead he looked at the muddied trail, which had many bends, and many hills, and managed to make an '_oh'_ sound. Cassander felt his cheek for a moment, and determined the fever was rising. Hephaestion's eyes were watering now, his eyes madly red, and his lips were now cracking.

"We have to take this path," Cassander told him as Hephaestion went back to resting his head on Cassander's shoulder. Hephaestion muttered something along the lines of 'no' but Cassander couldn't understand him. Instead he prayed to the gods that he had cursed earlier and urged the horse to move forward. He put a hand on Hephaestion's back and steadied him as they began down a hill. Already the horse was objecting, and sliding down the hill for the most part, but it managed to stay up. For the first time Cassander wished that Alexander would find them, whether or not it meant his death.

0

0

0

"Alexander," Cleitus called out. "This is insanity. You are likely to kill yourself before finding Hephaestion!"

Alexander wasn't listening though. Bucephalus had seen mud before in his life. The stallion carefully placed his feet as he began down the slope of the hill. He made sure that if he saw a rock he'd place his foot there. Alexander put a hand on his neck, knowing the horse was the smartest animal he knew. He did not doubt him. Alexander glanced up again when they were at the bottom of the hill. After a moment he urged Bucephalus further up the hill.

He didn't care how hard this was going to be. He had to find Hephaestion, no matter what it took. He knew that he'd done him wrong. He'd neglected him, hit him, and done so many other things. It wasn't all the fever. He'd neglected him long before that. But the harsh words that had come between them, out of fever or not, were words that would haunt the both of them. Hephaestion needed an explanation, and if he still wanted to leave, Alexander would let him. No -that was a lie. He wouldn't let Hephaestion simply leave him. He couldn't let him leave. He wanted him more than anything in the world, for to him, he was the world. There was nothing without Hephaestion.

"Alexander," he thought he heard Hephaestion call out. Immediately he turned, and in a furry looked around the woods. He could see nothing though. Then he felt a pain in his head. No, not reality, but a memory of Hephaestion's voice uttering his name. There was still poison in him, he knew, but he didn't have the time to rest. He needed to find Hephaestion.

Alexander let Bucephalus take his time. He knew that rushing him would only hurt them both. Alexander knew Hephaestion, just as well as he knew himself. Hephaestion would have insisted on using this path. At least for some time. It would be easy for the wind, other horses, other travelers, and the rain to wipe away the tracks they could have left. Then, eventually, once further into the covering of the lands he would begin to make his own path. Hephaestion was wise, and could disappear when he wanted to. That was why Alexander liked to send him for supplies, other than to protect him, but because he knew that if anything happened Hephaestion could get away without being seen.

He thought of Hephaestion, of what he'd done to him before he'd left. First, he'd hit him in a rage that he shouldn't have had. Hephaestion's disappointment in him was expected, and had reason. He should never have touched him. Yet it hadn't stopped there. He'd refused to let him leave, sent guards after them, which had led to another problem. Cassander had killed a Persian and now the Persians were angry with him, as were the Macedonians, for a renegade Persian had slashed a deep gash upon Hephaestion's arm. Both Cassander and Hephaestion had then been knocked unconscious. It was a horror to imagine what had happened next.

He'd refused to let any medic tend to Hephaestion's arm, leaving him to bleed, even if he left him to his death. While Hephaestion had likely wreathed in agony, bleeding, he had been in the stockades. He'd been beating Cassander, cutting him, breaking him in any way that he could. It was disgusting to think about. He knew that Cassander would never forgive him. He did not deserve such though. But, he wanted it, and would accept it if Cassander one day many years from now forgave him. Over all, he wanted Hephaestion to hear him out, and forgive him. He wanted him back in his arms. Without him, he was nothing. His myth was nothing.

0

0

0

Cassander knew that the horse was going to go no further. He cursed at the gods again. He hated each and every one of them. They were all tyrants that just sat on Olympus and watched the sufferings of men. He cursed them several more times, holding Hephaestion all the while, crying into his hair.

"What is it," Hephaestion whispered after some time. He hadn't heard most of his cursing. But he'd heard the last curse. He opened his eyes, felt the stinging sensations of the air hitting him, and tried to pull his head away. He felt too weak to move though. He felt like sleeping. But what had be been doing for all this time? And where were they now? Why was he on Cassander's horse?

"Beloved," Cassander said as he rubbed his back delicately. "I think that by the end of this journey you are going to hate me."

"Why?"

"Because," Cassander said as he kicked the horse as hard as he could. It whinnied loudly in protest before sliding forward. It was hardest for the horse to climb up the hill, but it managed to climb yet another one. "I'm taking you back to Babylon."

"What, why," Hephaestion immediately protested. Once again he tried to pull his head up. He was still too weak to move though. Why was that? Then he remembered Cassander's warning from in the cave. Suddenly it all made sense. They had to go back because he'd been foolish, and hadn't washed the wound enough, and now was ill. "No, Cassander, we can't go back. If we go back he'll kill us both. I can't let that happen."

"Don't worry," Cassander said in all seriousness. "He won't kill you."

"Cassander!"

Cassander only laughed. He continued to rub Hephaestion's back. The horse tried to stop again, pulling hard this time. It was hard for Cassander to hold Hephaestion and the reins at the same time though. Suddenly the horse flared its nostrils and let out a frightened snort. Cassander began to look around. The horse sensed something in the woods. Cassander continued to hold Hephaestion but found himself searching every area he could see. He questioned even the shadows. They sky was still darkened, the clouds threatening to open once more, and Cassander knew that it would be the perfect time for brigands to attack off guard pilgrims. He wasn't unprepared though. He reached for the dagger that was now at his side, which Bagoas had packed for him, and gripped the butt with his hand. His knuckles gripped the gold so tightly they were white. The horse then snorted again, eyes wide, and it began to search around as well.

"Hephaestion," a voice screamed. Cassander relaxed his grip on the dagger, but did not let go. He knew who it was. He could recognize Alexander's alarmed voice anywhere. Even Hephaestion tried to lift his head. But he managed only to moan and lean more against Cassander. He put a hand on Cassander's back and held him, still vowing to protect Cassander from the madness of Alexander. "Hephaestion!"

"Alexander," Cassander called out. Hephaestion only tightened his hold on him. He finally lifted his head and looked at Cassander, who had turned his head to look at him. Cassander leaned down, kissing Hephaestion lightly. He then spoke softly, only to him. "Do you remember the tale of Pygmalion?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember how he molded the perfect woman out of clay? And she was to be his, for they were to be as one?"

"Yes," Hephaestion said. Cassander felt him tremble, and wondered if the tears pouring from his eyes were from the pain he felt, or if he was crying for another reason. Cassander continued to hold him tightly, but glanced up to see if he could see Alexander.

"The gods made you for Alexander," Cassander whispered to him. "He has the powers to keep you well, and I can't. That is why I have to give you back to him, if he kills me, because I need you to live. I can't protect you out here, like I wanted to. Hephaestion, do you understand?"

"Don't leave me," Hephaestion said as he brought his lips to Cassander's. He initiated the kiss but it was Cassander that kissed him as if it was his last moment to live. He took him wholly on his mouth, took all of Hephaestion in, and sucked lightly at his lower lip. He then broke away when he heard another scream from Alexander. As the sound reached them the skies began to pour again. Hephaestion fell back against Cassander, his body weakened.

"I'm never going to leave you," Cassander said as he forced the horse to step forward more. The cold rain was soaking him, chilling him. But it was Hephaestion that was soon shivering. He shook terribly and Cassander tried to hold him tighter to him, willing him to steal the warmth of his body.

"Hephaestion," Alexander screamed out from somewhere close, but still far off.

"Alexander!"

"Cassander?"

"Alexander where are you?" Cassander didn't wait for an answer. He tried to move the horse in the way that he wanted. But the horse screamed terribly and pulled back at the bit. Cassander cursed, but then heard the sound of another horse, no doubt Bucephalus. The mare snorted and then turned her head, and her body, and began to move in the opposite direction. She was going towards another horse, for she would feel safer, and she was trained to follow other horses.

"Cassander! Hephaestion!"

"Alexander!"

Finally he saw something. Cassander saw a black blur, with a rider. It was Alexander. His horse moved forward, sliding in the wet earth, but now didn't mind it so much. She wanted to be with the other horse. Hephaestion still shivered as Cassander held him. Within a second Alexander was at Cassander's side. He looked down at Hephaestion and pulled a thick blanket from his back and put it over Hephaestion. He then looked at Cassander.

"Cassander…"

"Just get him back to Babylon," Cassander said as he passed Hephaestion to Alexander. Hephaestion didn't even notice. He was swirling in a black abyss, unable to awaken. He could hear things every now and then, but for the most part, he just felt cold. He knew that he shivered, knew that his arm ached, but knew nothing else. He didn't even hear Cassander and Alexander speaking.

"What about you," Alexander asked as the rain poured over them both. Alexander seemed different. He was suddenly worried for Cassander, which the other did not understand. "Cassander, come back. I wasn't myself."

"I don't care. I care only about Hephaestion."

Alexander took Hephaestion's arm and looked at it. It was infected, but not terribly. They would have to open the wound, flush it with alcohol, and then it would have to be stitched again. Otherwise it wasn't that bad. Alexander lifted one of Hephaestion's eyelids. He felt his heart stop. He looked up at Cassander.

"It's not the infection," Alexander said loudly. "He's been poisoned."


	11. Back in Babylon

Title: "The Persian Campaign"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 11, "Back in Babylon"

A/N: Once again, thanks for the reviews. Vania, I corrected the error in chapter 9, and thank you so much for mentioning it! So if you are on my alert list, and got an alert for Ch9, sorry –I had to delete it to edit it because that's the only way I know how to do it as of yet! Was going to wait to see what people thought of chapter ten, but the Muse won't leave me alone, so here goes another chapter. Enjoy!

0

0

0

He held his hand tightly, and hadn't let go in the last three days. Many things were changing around the palace. The investigation of the poisonings of both Alexander and Hephaestion were underway. However they were now led by Cassander, who was even in his weakened state not afraid to use his fists to interrogate those that offended him. They were still getting little in the way of results, but Alexander had urged everyone to be careful. He on the other hand had not left Hephaestion's side in three days, not to eat, command others, or even relieve himself. He couldn't leave his side. Cassander had made his swear he would not leave, for Hephaestion could not awaken alone.

It was strange. Alexander wondered when Cassander had come to care so much for Hephaestion. He never had as a child, and even as an adult had still constantly bickered with him. They had both been at each other's throats the last time that Alexander could remember. Then, next thing he knew, they were in love with one another. It was love, he knew. It was not like the love that he shared with Hephaestion, where their souls were bound, and they could not live without the other. It was something different, a more distant love, but one that had comforted the both of them when Alexander had begun to loose his mind with fever. Still, he could not recall seeing it before, and there it had been.

Alexander glanced up as Bagoas silently entered the room. He looked at Alexander, asking him with his eyes if there was anything that his king needed. Alexander shook his head and just like that the boy was gone. Alexander then went back to staring at the sleeping vision of Hephaestion. He wondered why he'd not yet woken, when Alexander had not been able to sleep. A trusted Macedonian doctor had told him that it was a different poison, mixed differently with Hephaestion's blood, but it had not been in his wine. It hadn't been in anything he'd ingested or it would have shown on his throat. Something else had been used to poison him.

Cassander had immediately suggested that it was the blade that had cut his arm, which was at the time being reopened, and then sterilized. The doctor had agreed with Cassander's observation and Cassander had immediately fled the room. Alexander knew that he was dangerous. He knew that Cassander would likely kill the person that had done it. The worst thing about it was that Alexander didn't care. The bastard that had done this to Hephaestion deserved to die. That was exactly what he got too.

Bagoas had entered the room yesterday morning, just before the sun was in the middle of the sky, and had told Alexander that Cleitus demanded to speak with him. Alexander wanted to tell Cleitus to leave. Yet he would not be dismissed so easily and he barged into the room. He had taken Alexander to the balcony, since he knew that Alexander would refuse to leave Hephaestion's side, and had pointed to the center of a market. Alexander saw forthwith what had upset Cleitus so. Cassander had found the two trees in the center of the market and had townsmen help him tie the Persian that had cut Hephaestion to both trees. His right arm and let to one tree, left leg and arm to the other, and both trees had been tied close together. Cleitus told Alexander that Cassander had lost his mind and was not listening to anyone.

Alexander watched as Cassander had taken the same dagger that had been poisoned, and used to cut Hephaestion, and torturously cut the Persian's tongue from his mouth. The man screamed, then made a serious of other sounds as Cassander raised the blade to the rope that had tied the trees together. If cut, the trees would pull apart, tearing the man in half with them. Cleitus still told Alexander that this could not be done. He told Alexander it could cause revolts. It would loose him face with the Persians. He also said again that Cassander was being disobedient, and was acting like he'd lost his mind, and Cleitus wondered if he too had been poisoned.

He hadn't been though. Alexander knew that well enough. He watched with his arms crossed, as Hephaestion placed what he could only guess was a candle under the rope. Cassander then calmly sat down in front of the man and watched as the flame began to burn the rope. The man screamed, pleaded for his life, but Cassander only stared mutely at him. Alexander was mute as well. When the rope burned through the trees flew away from one another and the man's arms and legs were ripped from his body. Just like that he was executed.

Cleitus was furious. Alexander on the other hand did not mind the way that Cassander had handled the situation. Cassander continued to sit, staring at his masterpiece, and Alexander went back to Hephaestion's side. The man deserved it. He took Hephaestion's hand and glared up at Cleitus when he continued to speak. Cleitus got the idea and left the room in a slight huff. He'd go himself and try to speak some kind of sense into Cassander before he slaughtered every other Persian that had been there the day Hephaestion was injured. At this point he was sure that Cassander was already planning that.

Alexander stared at Hephaestion now. He'd not moved in the slightest from the first time he'd been set down on the bed. Alexander rubbed his thumb over the back of Hephaestion's palm and continued to stare at him. He looked so peaceful when he slept. His lips pouted slightly, making him look all the more innocent. Alexander had never thought of him as a man, and had never thought of him as a boy. He'd thought of him, when he saw him slept, as a dream. At times he'd reach out and touch him, as he did now to his cheek, to see if he were real. Most of the time he'd wind up waking Hephaestion, who would smile before opening his eyes, and say sweet words to him. But this time he did not wake. He did not even appear to notice.

After tracing the lines of his face Alexander withdrew his hand and put it over the one already covering Hephaestion's hand. He sighed and bent his head, resting it upon his hand, and let his eyes well with tears. He then began to cry again as he had so many times in the last three days. If Hephaestion woke he knew that he would loose him, for there was nothing that would convince Hephaestion to forgive him, and this he knew. Yet while Hephaestion slept he was lost to him all the same. At least if he were awake, and well, Alexander would be able to stare at him from time to time when Hephaestion would be forced to stand in a room with him.

He cried desperately, holding Hephaestion's hand, which even now gave him strength. There was one thing that held him together in this world and he was letting it slip away from him. Once he'd realized that he wanted it back it was too late. Hephaestion would never again be his. But now he was still slipping away, and it wasn't into the arms of another, but into a world of blackness that no one could bring him back from. Alexander looked up, tears streaming down his face, hoping that perhaps he would look up and be caught off guard by those cerulean depths that he loved so much.

"Alexander," Cassander said quietly as he entered the room. Alexander looked up, and softened his look. Cassander was the only other that was welcome in this room. Cassander was the one that had protected Hephaestion, from him, from all others, and even from the Persian rain and an infection, which was also laced with a poisoning. Cassander came into the room further and then took a seat on the opposite side of the bed. He sat, stared at Hephaestion, but did not reach out to take his hand. Alexander would not have minded, but knew that out of respect for him, Cassander didn't. Alexander also noticed the dried smeared blood on his throat and on his chifton. Cassander sat back, putting a hand on the side of his face, and propped himself up with an elbow.

Cassander had been informed of Alexander's poisoning. Not only had Alexander apologized to him, but also he'd given a dagger to him, which he'd hoped Cassander would use against him. Cassander took it, then shook his head before turning and walking away. Others had told Cassander of how terrible Alexander felt about what he had done. Cassander had spoken of his beating to no other though. He'd also not said whether or not he'd forgiven Alexander. Deep down, Alexander knew that he had, but didn't want it to be so. Cassander deserved the right to hate him for as long as he lived. He should have the right to kill him. Yet he didn't use that right.

Alexander did not know what to say to Cassander in this silence. He felt like he should say something but could not figure out what to say. Everything felt too simple. He could not apologize again without making Cassander feel obligated to accept, or without making himself look needy, pleading for an apology he did not deserve. Nor could he simply speak of the weather, or even of Hephaestion. After more silence Cassander glanced over at Alexander and noticed his unease. Alexander noticed that Cassander had no problem sitting in complete silence, but was glad when he found out that he knew, and all the more glad when Cassander spoke even though his words would have perhaps taken others aback.

"I killed Tyeras," Cassander said, referring to another guard that was on the Persian force. He was one of the men that had been on the balcony days ago. Tyeras was the man that had hit Hephaestion on the back of the head, causing him to loose consciousness. Alexander didn't say anything immediately but Cassander continued in the same nonchalant tone. "It took him a long time to bleed out. I don't think I cut through the vein."

Alexander glanced up. He stared at Cassander for a moment. This was more of the Cassander that he remembered, the hardened side, not the tender side he'd seen around Hephaestion. Cassander didn't meet hi gaze though. He continued to stare at the sleeping Hephaestion. He'd come and gone in the last three days. But he was trying to give Alexander his time alone with him. He understood that their two souls were calling out for one another. He knew all too well that the love he shared with Hephaestion was not the love that Hephaestion and Alexander shared. It was love, but not the same, and not as strong. Alexander's love would be what brought Hephaestion back from his sleep, not his, and that didn't bother him. Nothing bothered him as long as Hephaestion woke.

"Does Cleitus know," Alexander asked after a moment. Cassander merely nodded. He didn't take his eyes from Hephaestion. Alexander knew that the hatred Cassander now had for him was deep. So deep, Cassander couldn't even look at him. It was deserved though, but he wished that Cassander would look at him, but knew that he wouldn't for years perhaps –if ever.

"I think I'm going to kill Uryin next," Cassander casually said as he rubbed his temple with the hand that he leaned against. Alexander stared at him, and he knew that he did. He didn't have to explain, but had nothing else to say. "He was there, and I don't like his beard."

"You're going to kill him because you don't like his beard," Alexander asked, slightly appalled at the suggestion of it. He knew that Uryin had kicked Cassander, giving the final blow that had sunk him into unconsciousness, but didn't think he needed to die. A lashing was one thing, but death was far more permanent.

"Perhaps," Cassander answered. There was a hint of insanity in his voice. Alexander had the same feelings he did. They both wanted to protect Hephaestion and both wanted to make sure that there would be no others to try their tricks with poisons. But Alexander didn't want to start killing everyone in sight that was a Persian. Cassander had admitted to Ptolemy that he found all of them suspicious. Alexander didn't like the fact that Cassander was not willing to adjust to change, but knew that he was getting more answers than any other had, so he couldn't deny him the power he had now. One of those powers included the right to kill those that needed to be killed as he saw fit.

"Have you slept," Alexander asked, not wanting to talk about death at the moment. He looked at Hephaestion. Still no movement. He continued to rub his thumb at the back of his palm, waiting for him to awaken. Cassander stared at Hephaestion as well but seemed to be staring through him, lost in some thought, or perhaps in some plan he was working on. Likely a list of the Persians he would kill Alexander figured.

"Have you?"

They both had not slept then. Alexander had stayed up with Hephaestion. His eyes were red, blackened underneath now, but he couldn't sleep. He had to be there when Hephaestion awoke. Cassander had not slept for the same reason. He was either killing men on the behalf of Hephaestion, or sitting with him, avoiding Alexander the best he could while he did so. Suddenly Hephaestion began to cough, ending the silence, but then fell back against the pillows in sleep again. Alexander had moved closer, hoping this time he would awake, but Cassander had not moved. Hephaestion did not awaken.

"You should read to him," Cassander said softly as the silence filled the room again. Alexander looked over at him. Without looking back Cassander elaborated, the same soft and rather tender tone. He wasn't really speaking to Alexander. He was just speaking it seemed as he stared at Hephaestion, but Alexander still listened. "He likes the work of Aristotle, and Homer, and he loves the stars…"

Cassander didn't continue. It was as if when the thoughts faded from his mind so did his speech. He let his eyes begin to close but quickly opened them. He was growing tired and knew that if he didn't get up and move he'd try to fall to sleep. So he stood and put a hand on Hephaestion's forehead. He left it there for a moment before turning and leaving the room. He said nothing to Alexander as he left, and the king said nothing to him. Alone again Alexander stared at Hephaestion.

0

0

0

_"Oh he's fine," Olympias told her crying son as she put her hand on Hephaestion's forehead. The boy slept soundly but his fever was still there. It was already lessening though. Olympias could only smile when she glanced over at Alexander who was crying as a young child would if they thought their best friend and soul companion was dying. _

_"Are you sure," asked the twelve year old Alexander. He came closer, looked at Hephaestion, and then turned again. It was foolish to be crying, but he worried for him. The doctors wouldn't even come to see him because Philip had told them not to bother. He said the boy just had a cold and not to worry. Really, he didn't want to worry. He wanted to get drunk and go see if there were any new sheep in the field, as his mother put it. _

_"Yes," Olympias said as she placed Hephaestion's hand over his chest. She'd been checking the flowing of his blood, which was as she suspected fine. She ran a hand over her cheek as she stood. Hephaestion too was like a son to her, and as Alexander said, he was also Alexander. "It is nothing to worry about. He is already getting better. He just needs to drink plenty of cool water, have some warm broth, a little more sleep and things will be back to normal."_

_"What about him getting sick?"_

_"His stomach was trying to get rid of the sickness," she assured him. Alexander had almost had a heart attack when Hephaestion had vomited. He was already worried but the act had thrown him into a hypersensitive mode. As soon as Hephaestion rested he'd run to her rooms to come to get her. He made it sound as if Hephaestion had vomited his entrails out his mouth, and his eyes were hanging from the sockets, and his body was warmer than fire. Olympias had known it was nothing that bad though. Yet Alexander had been crying and pleading with her so of course she put down her needlework and came. _

_"He'll get well soon?"_

_"I assure you that he is fine," she stated once more. "Do you know what you can do to make him feel better while he sleeps?"_

_"Pray?"_

_"No, the gods already can tell by your tears that you care greatly for him," she said as she put a hand on his cheek. "He was a gift to you, from those gods that smile down at you. They won't take him from you unless you give them reason to. Do you understand that?"_

_"Yes. But what should I do."_

_Olympias smiled and removed her hand from the side of his face. She then motioned for him to sit at Hephaestion's side as she had just done. Alexander sat and looked at his sick friend. He didn't know that it was a simple flu that he too would get. They would both get it more than once. It was a childhood experience that all went through. But still, he worried for Hephaestion. _

_"Read to him," Olympias said. "You both enjoy the story of Achilles. Whisper that softly to him as he speaks. It will soothe his mind, and calm you as well. Before you know it he will awaken."_

_"What if I finish the story?"_

_"Start another. Make one of your own if you have to. Tell him what you plan to do when you rule Macedonia. But make sure you say it softly, like the wind, otherwise it will not help him."_

_"Okay," Alexander said as he wiped his tears away. His mother left the room and he stared down at Hephaestion. Slowly, he began to retell Hephaestion the story of Achilles. As he did, he thought about what his story would be like, and what Hephaestion's part in that tale would be. _

0

0

0

Alexander continued to hold his hand. He let the tears that were still blurring his vision fall. Then, since he did not feel like telling him the story of Achilles again, began to weave a wonderful tale. He made sure to whisper it as the wind would, speaking softly, but pleading for Hephaestion to waken.


	12. The Story

Title: "The Persian Campaign"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 12, "The Story"

A/N: Have been writing this all night. I hope that everyone is enjoying, and liking the twists and turns. Don't worry, miracles happen. Eventually we'll find a big enough one.

0

0

0

For some reason he thought that he was still with Cassander, whether it was due to the fever, or perhaps it was the dream he was having. He hadn't stopped reciting the _Iliad_. In the back of his mind he continued to tell the story, unaware that Cassander no longer listened, and unaware that he wasn't speaking at all. He felt his body trembling and thought it was because of the rain. He didn't know of his fever, and he didn't know that he was now back in Babylon. The rain still poured in his mind, and in the reality, and he still imagined that he was soaking to the bone. In all actuality he was in a warm bed, furs surrounding him, with the King of All holding his hand, and Cassander checking in on him from time to time.

There was something that he began to hear, even though the rain tried to obscure it from him. He was exhausted and couldn't move though. He could hear a voice calling his name, saying it over and over again, and in his mind he reached out with a hand. In reality he didn't move in the slightest. Suddenly he was standing in the rain, blanketed by the grayness, and he was looking around. No matter where he turned he saw gray, or the trunk of a tree. Trying to walk only got him farther away from the voice, and he tried, but for some reason when he tried to answer the call no sound came from his throat. It was as if he was in a vast world and was somehow void.

He could still hear it though, or was beginning to, even though the rain still hit him. Dizziness was coming over him and he felt sick to the stomach. He sunk to the muddy ground and resulted to crawling. It was thick mud, and slippery, and he wasn't making much progress. But he needed to get closer to the voice that he heard. It was a small hum against the sound of the thunder and chaos around him. It was something not meant to be heard. Yet he heard it, and he needed to listen, he knew that he needed to listen. Finally he stopped moving, stopped flailing helplessly, and put his chin to his chest. He breathed as slowly as he could, closing his eyes, listening to the rain at first. Then, the beating sound of the heavy drops of water falling to the ground seemed to fade away, and he could hear that faint hum.

"…and they gifted him to me, this wonder. I didn't know what he was as a child. At first he was a friend, a boy from Athens, that was not afraid to beat me at wrestling. In fact, he beat me every time. He'd never let me win and it angered me all the more…"

He could hear it, faint as it was, and he slowly began to crawl closer to it once again. The voice at first wasn't anything that he could recognize. It was too faint to even hear. He heard tears though, heard them clearer than anything. Even though it pained him, and he was gasping for breath, he continued to crawl. The mud tried to hold him back and the rain tried to beat him further into it. But he couldn't stop, not when he was so close to something, even though he had no clue in the world to as what it was.

"…I think it was somewhere in that moment, when I first began to realize that it wasn't just a friendship that we had. Aristotle, bless the man, I don't know if he was trying to urge me away or push me forward. Oh, I didn't understand it Hephaestion, not then. He spoke of loving a man for his mind, not his body, for one was sacred and the other was not meant to be. I didn't understand him. I knew only that I loved you, and that I wanted to cherish you forever, my gift from the gods. Yes, it was that day, when I looked at you sitting next to me. You smiled, for no reason in the world, and you eyes were bluer than the sky, shining at me in the distance between us but telling me all the while that it would be fine. Your hair was swept away by the wind, and you had a hand on you thigh, and you turned and glanced at me. You blinked and asked me if something was wrong, but it wasn't, and that's what I told you. Something was wrong though, for I'd just fallen for you as no man had ever done for another. I couldn't speak it to you though, couldn't let you know…"

More pounding rain and dizziness. For a moment he thought that the voice went away. He gritted his teeth and tried to go on more. He'd heard it, his name. It called to him, whispering into his ear like a muse. He pushed himself forward in the mud, through the rain. Where had the voice gone? It was quieter now and he had to stop to listen for it again. Fear swept through him, he thought he'd gone the wrong way. But then, he heard a dull hum again, and there it was.

"…and I stood there watching you. The way that the fire fought against your features showed only beauty to me. You were too stubborn, fighting with that lamp as if it were an Illyrian. You didn't give up though even when the feat seemed to be impossible. I don't know for how long I stood there staring at you in all of your radiance, thinking of how much I wanted to touch each and every inch of your skin, but it didn't matter for how long I stood there. I knew that I loved you, and you knew that I was there. I took the light down, went into the tent with you after you'd put out the flame, and broken the lamp that held it. I was so scared on that night Hephaestion, even more scared than I had let off to you. I wanted to protect you, keep you from any harm that would come the next day. I tried to hard to hold all of my emotions from you, for I was the leader and it was my job to be strong, and I knew that you didn't love me. I knew it, in the back of my mind, but then it finally happened. I don't know even what was said now, when I think back about it. I wrote it all down, but don't remember it, because every word spoken was shadowed by a kiss…"

Hephaestion looked up, wet hair streaming down his face, eyes clouded, body aching with pain. He let water fall down his face, coming to his lip before pouring off. The voice was getting cleared now, louder, the closer he got. But he recognized it now. Somewhere in the back of his mind he'd known all along whom spoke such sure words to him. His head now up he continued to listen but he couldn't hear it. It had stopped and there was dizziness and thunder again. No, he couldn't stop listening. Where had Alexander gone?

"…Every touch sent shivers down my spine, and that feeling never stopped, Hephaestion. It felt so right, kissing you and pressing you against me. The way that you held me back, I'll never forget, holding me as if it were the end of the world and you were going to take me with you no matter what Furies tried to stop us. Then it happened, everything that I'd been dreaming of for years, and we made love. But it wasn't just that. It wasn't just about the joining of our bodies, but it was the meeting of our minds too, and the union of our souls. I held you after, and you held me, and nothing could have been more perfect in the world…"

It was still getting louder. Hephaestion fell onto his back, the rain hitting him now. Dizziness swept through him and he felt like he was going to be sick. He didn't want to stop but could find the strength to do no more. He could only lay stretched out in the mud, eyes closed, and palms facing up. It was hard to breathe, and he knew that he shouldn't do what he did, but he parted his lips so that he could taste the gift of the gods.

"…and after telling me all of these things she sent me out of her rooms and left me to do the hardest and worse thing I had ever done up till then in my life. I stopped looking at you as a lover and as a friend. I tried to look at you as if you were some general that I didn't know and didn't care for. But I did, all that while, and I saw you grow angry with me. You tried to hide it but it was in your eyes, where you try to keep all of your secrets, but like to many other times they betrayed you. I remember trying to look at you when you were looking at the ground, or at Cassander, or Ptolemy, or one of the others. It scared me at first because I feared that you looked at them the same way that you had looked at me. But deep in my heart I knew that you didn't love them so, if at all. And I wanted so badly to take you back but feared what my mother had said. I feared that you were like so many others and loved the crown on my head more than my heart beneath my breast…"

Still he couldn't move and couldn't speak. He felt like he was lead, sinking into a sea. He tried once again to move any part of his body, if only a finger. His eyes were closed, dizziness taking him, and everything was black now. There was no rain, no mud, nothing but a black envelope that surrounded him, and a soft whisper of a voice.

"…but I was never angry at you for making me king. I wasn't mad that you had done the best thing for me. I just, I was so confused, and finally I couldn't stand it anymore. When you left the room I knew that mother was wrong and I knew that you were the only thing in the world that was worth living for. I heard you crying, and to this day I have never told you that, but I did. I heard as you cried onto Cassander's shoulder, and it scared me more that it was Cassander that you'd found to cry to more than anything, for it used to be me that you poured your soul to. It was my fault though, and as I heard you leave, I knew that if I did not stop you then I wouldn't stop you ever again. You would leave me, my gift from the gods, and the world would be empty…"

He lost the voice for some time. He heard only little pieces of the story that was being told. He heard names mentioned, and places, and epic battles. Alexander told him how brave he had been and how he'd saved him from death so many times. Hephaestion lay in the blackness, trying to grasp back the hand that held his. He thought he had almost squeezed Alexander's hand, but then realized he just thought he had, and Alexander had felt nothing. His entire body ached and he couldn't breathe it seemed. Suddenly he began to panic, unsure of what had happened to him, and of Cassander, and he worried even for Alexander who was still crying and trying to whisper myths into his ear.

"…and he took me to my room and set me on the bed. I still fought with them but sleep claimed me. When I woke, I could remember everything that I had done, and I wished that I hadn't been able to do so. I recalled letting you leave me, after I had hit you, and I remembered Cassander coming to your aid. I was so, so foolish and I didn't even understand why. But then you'd come, later, and you told me that you wouldn't be back. Hephaestion, you weren't my whore. You never were, no matter how much some of the men joke about it, because of Cassander's stupid name he had given you. I never wanted you to feel like a whore Hephaestion, and I realized when I stared out at the pouring rain when I came to my senses that I had. I went from city to city and palace to palace and I took others in my bed when you had none, and I'd never told you that you couldn't do the same, but I think you knew that it would devastate me. I think you knew, that it would wind up like it did with Cassander, not out of my hatred of you but out of the hatred that I have for myself. I know that I treat you wrong, and that's why no other can touch you, because I thought that they would steal you from me like Cassander has…"

No, he wanted to tell him that he wasn't stolen from him. He still loved him, even now. He tried again to do something to show Alexander that he was still there. But then he began to worry. Was he dead? The thought scared him, causing him to almost panic and forget to breathe. He couldn't be dead, not without telling Alexander one last time that he loved him. He couldn't be dead, not without seeing his face once more, and running a hand over his chest and through his golden hair.

"…I can't live without you though. I've always known that and this only proved it further to me. If you vow to hate me for the rest of your life I will understand it. I will gladly let you. But I don't want you to leave. I want to know that you are somewhere near, and I would ask you to continue this journey with me as you always have Hephaestion. You're the only one that I would plead with to come with me. No other captures me the way that you do. Hate me if you will, for I deserve it, but don't leave me. I need you to wake up and be strong for me so that I can be strong for you, and for Persia, and for Macedonia. We are one Hephaestion, like the sun and stars, and without one the other would be lost. I know now why we are sun and stars, I see why you chose to say those words to me. The stars always chase the sun, as you chase me Hephaestion, but the sun is also chasing the stars. Hephaestion, I vow to chase you until the day that I die, whether you want me to or not. But I cannot be rid of you, no matter how hard I try to let you go and still my beating heart, but I fail each time. You've won me Hephaestion, and I have won you, and we can't go on alone…"

He wasn't alone, he would never be alone. He felt the blankets at the back of his neck. It was a thick fur, a thick bear hide perhaps, one that Alexander had hunted down as they crossed the lands. He felt it against his neck, and felt Alexander's warm hands on his, but nothing else. Still he tried to speak but couldn't. Still he tried to move but couldn't. He wanted so much more than anything to grip Alexander's hand, to tell him that he was listening. But he couldn't.

"…and that is why I need you to wake up," he heard Alexander's whisper as if it were next to him now. "I need you to wake up because I can't let you go. It sounds so selfish of me, I know, but I need you. I need you like that sun needs that stars Hephaestion. Wake to hate me if you must, but please, open your eyes Hephaestion…"

"Alexander," he gasped as if it were his first breath in years. It was a struggle to have said as much but finally he had. His middle finger twitched in Alexander's hand. The pain suddenly rushed through his body, and every inch of him hurt, and he wreathed in agony. But he could feel everything again. He'd called out to Alexander. Dizziness, blackness approaching, but he had to fight it. He heard Alexander's head lift suddenly and felt him grip his hand tighter. He leaned over him, free hand on his cheek, and gratefully kissed his forehead.

"Hephaestion," he pleaded through his tears. "Hephaestion say something else."

0

0

0

_"I told you," Olympias cooed as she put her hand on Hephaestion's damp forehead again. He stared up at her, slightly ill still, but his eyes still sparkling. Olympias moved so that Alexander could again take his place at the other child's side. "It was nothing serious. I'll tell someone to bring broth and water as I leave."_

_"Thank you mother," Alexander said as he took Hephaestion's hand. _

_She paused at the door. She glanced over her shoulder and looked at both boys for a moment. Alexander looked away from Hephaestion and over at her. There was a soft smile on her lips. _

_"What story did you tell him," she asked. _

_"I told him of when I would rule Persian," the young Alexander said. _

_0_

_0_

_0_

"Hephaestion," Alexander pleaded with him further. "I heard you, I really did, but say something else."

Hephaestion didn't know what to say. He didn't even know if he could speak more. He heard Alexander suddenly call for Bagoas. He heard the door open, and then heard the boy rush away. So, he was in Babylon again. Maybe they had never left. Alexander cupped his jaw, held tighter still to his hand, and asked once more for Hephaestion to say something. He even told him he could call him a bastard if that was all he could think of. Hephaestion tried to find the words in his head, which spun, and tried to get them to form on his tongue.

"You're," he tried to say after a long struggle, "not alone, Alexander."

It must have sounded terrible. He was breathless, his voice raspy from the lack of water, and his lower lip was cracking from the poison's effect, and was lightly bleeding when he began to press his lips together. It wasn't too bad, but it was painful enough to make his words sound as if he'd just been stabbed. To Alexander, it was the most resplendent sounding voice in the world.

"Oh Hephaestion," Alexander said as he threw his arms around his back and shoulders and hugged him. Hephaestion for a moment was worried about him squeezing to tightly as he'd done to his hand. He already was having trouble breathing and didn't need Alexander to help him any further. "All the things I've said, the things I've done in the last few days, I didn't mean them. I didn't want to hit you or send you away or make you my whore. Hephaestion, the poison made me do most of those things, but the neglect was my fault. I know this, I know it so well now, and I will beg for your forgiveness until I say my last words and release my last breath…"

"Alexander," Hephaestion interrupted weakly, "I already heard that part."

"Phae," Alexander said with a laugh, even through tears. "I swear to you that whoever did this to you, will be found and will be killed, either at my hand or at Cassander's."

"Where is Cassander?"

"Massacring half of the Persian army no doubt," Alexander said as he held tight to Hephaestion's hand again. Hephaestion was so weak. The poison given to him was far worse than the one that had been given to Alexander. Whoever had poisoned Hephaestion had wanted no mistakes, but luckily, Alexander had Bagoas.

"Oh," Hephaestion said as if it were the most natural answer in the world. "They…may not like him so much after…he does that."

"They don't like him now." Alexander turned his head as the door opened. He saw Bagoas at first enter with a large tray of things in his arms. He set it down on a table as he entered. Behind him was Cassander, covered in blood, but he was trying to wipe it away with a wet cloth. Alexander looked to Hephaestion, who was desperately trying to open his eyes for more than half a second, and he smiled. Hephaestion turned his head and looked at him, weakness taking his body, but not the hope from his eyes.

"I'll leave," Alexander whispered as he released Hephaestion's hand. It was hard for both of them to let go. Yet he knew that Cassander and Hephaestion needed to speak. He hoped that he would have the rest of his life to speak to Hephaestion. Cassander needed to speak with him now, for perhaps he would give him strength, as he had in the past weeks when Alexander had not been able to give it to him. Alexander left the room with Bagoas and Hephaestion turned his head slowly so that he could look at Cassander. Cassander was almost smiling as he wiped a sweat-slicked strand of hair away from the other's paler forehead.

"Welcome back," he said softly. He then smiled playfully. "You'll never hear me say this again, or admit to it later, but I kind of missed having the king's whore around."

Hephaestion smiled even though it hurt his lips. Cassander leaned down and kissed him lightly, careful not to make things worse. He then took his hand and held it, staring at the myth before him, still knowing that Hephaestion could not be real. He was divinity and that was why he knew that he'd pull through this poison. He had known all along that he would.

"You're killing Persians now," Hephaestion asked as he closed his eyes for a moment before reopening them. Cassander looked better than he had. There were only a few things that would make anyone suspect he'd been beaten a few days before. His lips were still split, and even though his face was no longer swollen, there was blackness at the corner of his eye, the skin still remembering the blow. His two broken fingers were no longer in splints but still did not bend as they had. Even the stitches that Hephaestion could see on him, mainly one set on his arm, looked as if they could be taken out. He looked perfectly healed almost. Hephaestion hated this place, hated it to death at the moment, but had to admit that they had salves here that Macedonians would give kingdoms up for.

"Only those that need to be killed. There have been a few," he admitted to Hephaestion. "The man that cut your arm didn't die, somehow the gods kept him alive. They kept the ones that hit you alive, the ones that hit me even. But they're gone now."

"All of them?"

"Almost. There are a few more that need to be hunted down. But the main ones are gone. Ripped apart by trees, suspended from the gates, eaten by ants, death was all the same for them. I just have to find every hand that touched that dagger and cut them off until I can find out who poisoned you."

"Oh," Hephaestion said breathlessly. He had to rest his eyes again or he'd become dizzy. He rested for a moment and then opened his eyes. Cassander still looked at him, as he had when he'd first told him that he loved him, even though he was really calling him a myth at the time. "What about you?"

"I'm still dreadfully handsome," he joked. It made Hephaestion smile again, but Cassander knew that he was on the verge of slipping away again. He held his hand, knowing that he'd have to come around and say something to him before he did. "Hephaestion, Alexander was poisoned."

"I know."

"Then you know," he began but then paused. "You know that he still loves you?"

"Yes," Hephaestion said holding his hand tightly back now. He knew what Cassander was going to say. He was going to let him go, give him back. Hephaestion didn't know if he wanted that. But he knew that Cassander didn't need to back down. He loved him too, differently, but he loved him too. "But I love you Cassander, I wasn't lying when I said it."

"I know," Cassander said quietly. "I know that you love me, and I'll always love you. I always have and I won't ever be able to stop. From time to time we'll be together, when Alexander has gone and done something foolish again. But you weren't made to love me Hephaestion, you were made to love him. I've always known that Hephaestion, always, and I've never blamed either of you for it. Your souls are one, and I can't come between that."

"Cass…"

"Do you love him," he asked before Hephaestion could finish. He said it quietly, gently, and he already knew what Hephaestion would say. There was silence, and then Hephaestion lightly nodded. He loved Alexander more than anything, and even now, would still be his shield if he needed it. He would be his shoulder to lean on, the lover that would fill his bed when it was cold, he would be all that he had been still. It didn't matter what he'd done to him, yet he'd never forgive him for harming Cassander, but Alexander already knew this.

"Yes," Hephaestion whispered.

"Then you see why I have to let you go," Cassander said as he kissed the back of Hephaestion's hand. "Don't ever doubt that I love you Hephaestion. I always will leave my heart for you and my door unlocked."

"I know," Hephaestion said as a tear fell and slid down his cheek. Cassander kissed the back of his hand once more before wrapping his arms around him. He held him tightly for a moment and let Hephaestion cry. Then, slowly, he let him go. Giving him one last kiss on the lips, Cassander rose with a soft smile, and left the room.


	13. Query

Title: "The Persian Campaign"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 13, "Query"

A/N: Again, I must thank all of my reviewers. I'm currently on a school holiday and am trying to finish this story before going back, as well as the homework I haven't started. Once back at school I may only be able to do a chapter a day, and I don't want to keep everyone waiting in suspense too much, so I'm writing like crazy! I hope everyone is still enjoying. In this chapter a lot of questions and suspicions will be answered. If they aren't, they probably will be in the next chapter, but don't be afraid to ask me!

0

0

0

He ran the blade under his nail again, pretending to pick at something that wasn't there. He leaned back in the chair, his feel propped on the edge of another chair in front of him, and continued to whistle obnoxiously. It was beginning to annoy even him yet he couldn't seem to stop now. Everything about it was annoying the man in front of him. Speaking of, he looked up to see how his condition was. The Persian guard was bound by his hands and was hanging from the roof. Blood dripped down the side of his face where Cassander had severed his ear. Didn't matter to Cassander how much the man had screamed, because he could live with an ear, and still talk.

"So," Cassander said as he tossed the dagger into the air and then caught it. He did this again, playing with the man like a cat would toy with a mouse, just before tearing it to shreds. "Can you recall where that poison came from just yet? How about this, just tell me where your friend kept the vile of it, and I'll let you go."

"You wouldn't," the Persian said as he hung. "You lie."

"I may, you never know. But if you don't want to that's fine. I'll just keep picking off all of your friends until I get somewhere. How many innocent people is that Padius?"

"Too many. You know that not all of the command knew."

"Who's to say that I know that? As far as I'm concerned, I still haven't heard anything from you that is keeping others safe. Let me think, if I kill one person a day until the entire command is killed, that would take about…What do you think, three months?"

"You wouldn't."

"Tell me where Chapal hid the vile," Cassander said as he stood and put the edge of the blade against the man's other ear. "I already know that he didn't plan it. I know that you didn't plan it. I want to know whose idea it was to murder Hephaestion Amyntor. Do you understand?"

"Yes," the man gasped as Cassander punched him in the gut. He couldn't take much more of a beating. These Persians were soft. It made Cassander wonder how they'd managed to last as a civilization this long. "You are right. We did not plan it."

"Good, now what about the poison?"

"Chapal was told to smear it on all of the blades, and that we were to pick a fight with the Macedonian general closest to Alexander. We didn't even know the man's name. Just that he had blue eyes, long dark hair, and was a general."

"Why on the blades?"

"I don't know," the man said. Cassander sighed and punched him again. The man slumped for a moment but Cassander propped him back up. He pushed the blade against the man's throat and just stared coldly at him. This one broke far quicker than the rest. Perhaps Cassander should have threatened all of their families. "It works in the blood, not the stomach. It will go away, the fever and so on. But he will always have the poison in him."

"Was the plan to kill him?"

"Yes. But he didn't die. Maybe the blade that struck him wasn't dipped enough. I am not sure. What remains of the poison was hidden in Chapal's room, under the bed, there is a hole on the baseboard. Now you must let me go."

"You're right," Cassander said as he took a step back. He removed the blade from the man's next. Just when the man thought it was same, Cassander plunged the blade into his throat. Instantly the vein was struck and the man began to slump again. Cassander pulled the blade out, wiping the blood off on his thigh. He glanced into the man's eyes as he bled out. "I do lie."

Cassander made his way out of the room and found his way to a quarter shared by all of the Persian guards. As he entered the hall they all looked venomously at him. None of them dared to try to fight with him though. They'd all learned quick enough that this Macedonian didn't work for the king. He was under his own ruling and wasn't afraid to kill each and every one of them. He was mad in all areas of the mind. They watched as he walked by them, glaring at dark eyes to those that glanced at him. The Macedonian entered the small bunked room that had once belonged to Padius and Chapal. He went to the bed that Padius had used, and searched for a hole in the board that held the bed off of the ground. Fools, why would they want to sleep on such wood?

Cassander found it though. He reached into the small hole then and withdrew a small vile. He held it up to the light and examined the liquid contents. The liquid was a dark purple color, but would have been translucent on a blade. Cassander smiled, glad that he had finally found it. Yet he didn't know exactly what it was. He stood and quickly left the Persian quarters and went to find someone that would know, and he knew already where to look.

0

0

0

Bagoas looked up quickly when he heard the door open. He then looked down when he saw that it was only Cassander. For the moment he knew that the man would bring no harm to him. It was really for Hephaestion's sake, because Bagoas was working on a drink that would ease the dizzy feeling from his head. It would also help fight the infection on his arm. He'd begun to make a salve, but knew this would be needed first, because the general was still in much pain. He tried to hide it, but the king and Bagoas were not fools. They heard him grinding his teeth.

He picked up another dark green leaf and cut the center stem away from it he then carefully rolled the leaf and held it over the cup. He waited for the clear liquid to drip from the leaf into the cup. But he also glanced back up at Cassander. The Macedonian seemed excited about something. Bagoas knew that he had found what he was looking for from Padius and Chapal. The Macedonian held a vile out, which he'd hidden in the palm of his hand, confirming Bagoas' prediction.

"Look at this for a moment," Cassander said as he set it down. Bagoas didn't have to examine it to know where it was. He had known when he saw the purple hue. Instead he continued to chop up another leaf, grinding this one until it was a green mush, before dropping it into the cup and stirring it with the stem of a dried flower.

"Poison," Bagoas said as he stirred. "It must be put in the blood. Our people used to use it in battles. It would be put on blades in thick amounts, a potion thicker than that liquid, and would be stabbed into the enemy. If they didn't die from the wound they would from the poison. It works immediately if stabbed in the heart though. It stops it from beating. Only once was a man saved here, after being stabbed in the heart."

"So it is Persian?"

"Of course, you are in Persia."

Cassander rolled his eyes. If you gave a slave an inch of slack he would think himself to be Zeus. "Where does it come from? Is it found like this, is it mixed, tell me more."

"Not many know how to make in anymore. After the last Greece invasion many years ago, those that did were often killed trying to get the items needed to make it. There is a jelly from the sap of a special root that grows in the far forests in the poison. But what really kills the infected one would be the snake venom."

"Snake venom?"

"From the white snake. It is a very deadly snake. They were always hard to find. But they no longer live here. They all were killed. When the wars came they stopped breathing. But that is a new potion, for the venom otherwise would be dried out."

"But if there are no snakes, then how can it be the same thing?"

"It was not made here," Bagoas said as he chopped up another leaf. He stirred the drink in the cup again, looking at the thickness. It did not look tasteful at all, and it wasn't tasteful, but within a few minutes it would be done. Then, Hephaestion would finally find some peace. Also, this would not make him drowsy, so he could continue to be with Alexander. That Bagoas didn't like at much, but knew what the two shared, and knew he wouldn't come between it.

"But I thought you said it was Persian!"

"It is a Persian poison," Bagoas said as he glanced back at the thickness of the cup before taking a light green leaf and chopping it up. "But it is a Macedonian snake."

"What?"

"The white snake also lives in Macedonia. Every now and then, your warriors would take something back with you. Just like the Greeks. Darius told me once that the Greeks had taken many of the white snakes to give to nobles, planning to kill them of course. But he said some had become pets. Years ago he mentioned a woman, named Olympias, who had one of the white snakes…"

"Queen Olympias?"

"I'm not sure if she was a Queen," Bagoas continued. "I just know that she lived in Macedonia, and had a white snake. Perhaps that is where the venom came from."

"Wait," Cassander said, trying to make sense of it in his head. "You're saying that a Persian poisoned Hephaestion with a white snake, which came from Olympias? Impossible. Olympias hasn't been near us for years. And why would the Persians be involved if she really had planned to kill Hephaestion, after all this time might I add, when she could have just asked a Macedonian?"

"I only said maybe her snake gave the poison. I didn't say she did it."

"What does that mean," Cassander said, throwing up a hand. "Ah, by Zeus! What happened to the days when people would just rat each other out?"

"I'm not sure," Bagoas said to comfort him. He continued to stir the drink. Suddenly he found himself thinking of ways Hephaestion could have been poisoned. "You're right, the far off queen couldn't have done it."

"Of course not."

"But it was her snake that the venom came from. She sent things to Darius, and Darius to her, before Alexander's father was killed." This didn't seem to surprise the Macedonian. Instead he mumbled something about knowing that the queen had been involved with Philip's murder. "She probably sent him the venom. Yet, as I said, the poison has not been made by others for some time."

"Because it's hard to make?"

"No. There is nothing hard about it. One just has to know what goes into it. Many don't." Cassander raised a suspicious eyebrow. "I do, but I assure you, I had nothing to do with it. Think about it for a moment, would I be helping you now if I had?"

Cassander shook his head and then let it fall to the table. He sighed, lifted his head, and dropped it down once more. Bagoas wondered why these men were so strange. He then continued to go on, thinking as he did so. He was trying to remember who else could know about how to make such a strong toxin. Then, it came to him.

"Cassander," he said as he began to speak again knowing now, or at least suspecting, who'd been involved. "The poison would have been in Darius' room, locked away, for he would not want it stolen."

"Sure, if you say so."

"But while Alexander rode into the city, Darius was not in his room. There was a panic in the palace."

"And anyone could have ransacked through his things," Cassander said as he looked up. He was beginning to think as well. It wasn't a Macedonian that had poisoned Hephaestion. They wouldn't gain enough in killing him, even though many hated him for having such an influence over Alexander. It was a Persian, that would have much to gain by getting rid of Alexander's love, and putting themselves –or one close to them –into Alexander's heart. It was making sense.

"But not everyone could go in that room," Bagoas said. "And not everyone knew where he hid the spare key to the small wooden box it was hidden in."

"How many people would the Persian Guard listen to," Cassander asked, already knowing it would be a select few. Bagoas glanced up at him. Counting at he stirred he held up a hand, indicating there were only three people the guard would have listened to. One of those people would have been Alexander. So it was the other two that were responsible.

"The master of this plan was close then. They had to get in," Cassander said as he thought about it. "They had to find the key and the viles of venom. Then, they had to go and make the poison. But they couldn't kill Hephaestion by themselves. So instead, they ordered the guard to cut him, knowing that Alexander was already going to send them to find him."

"Knowing that Alexander was already poisoned," Bagoas added. "You must now look to someone higher than a guard. You have to look to someone that knows too much about the going ons in this palace."

Cassander smirked, "Its someone that you don't like. Isn't it?"

"I wouldn't mind it if he were to die, if that's what you mean."

Cassander jumped up immediately. He knew exactly who had done it. It was easy to know, now that they'd narrowed it down. Bagoas watched him as he fled the room. It was a good thing that Cassander wasn't mad at him. Otherwise, he knew that he'd kill him too. This one didn't have the slightest problem killing those that were in his way.


	14. Execution

Title: "The Persian Campaign"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 14, "Execution"

A/N: Hey everyone, thanks again for the reviews. I know that I evilly cut the last chapter off. I haven't checked my reviews, because I'm writing this, but it would be interesting to see if anyone guessed who was behind the plot to poison Hephaestion. Queen Cassander actually is just killing anyone and everyone that was on that balcony. Yes he did first kill the original man behind the actual stabbing of Hephaestion, but now he's going through everyone else. Sorry I didn't write you back before writing this! Koalared Thanks for the reviews. I really am trying to finish it, and thank you for reading and reviewing so quickly!

A/N: If you've seen the movie, when Stateira approaches Alexander and Hephaestion for the first time she has an advisor/protector with her. I have absolutely no idea what his name was (so if you do I would love to know it!). So in this chapter, when people are talking about the Advisor, that is whom we're talking about. Sorry for my lack of knowledge on that one name!

0

0

0

Alexander rested his head on Hephaestion's chest, listening to his heartbeat as he rocked against the rise and fall of his lover's chest. Hephaestion wasn't sleeping, but was soundly resting. No words needed to be spoken in this moment. Alexander just listened to the silence that had now become Hephaestion's words. Hephaestion put a hand against Alexander's head and played with his hair for a moment before he soundly began to breathe again.

Hephaestion opened his eyes and glanced out toward the balcony. It was growing late in the afternoon and Alexander hadn't left his side for hours. He wondered if he had left him at all in the time that he'd been sleeping. He continued to thread his fingers through his blond hair, wondering what tomorrow would bring. Smiling, he recalled the words that Alexander had spoken about the sun chasing the stars, and the stars chasing the sun. It was true, he'd been following Alexander all of his life, but he hadn't been chasing him. He'd been following him, wanted by him, and Alexander had never been fleeing from him.

"Your heart skipped a beat," Alexander said quietly, drawing Hephaestion away from the memories of it. Hephaestion glanced down at him, lightly running his fingers through Alexander's hair. He knew that it soothed him, but it relaxed him as well. Alexander continued to rest his head upon him before he finally tilted his head up and stared into Hephaestion's cerulean eyes. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Fine," Hephaestion replied. It was odd. He hardly could recall ever just letting the silence fill the room with Alexander. The only time he'd been silent around him was when his lover slept in his arms and he'd wake to stare at him. But never before had they both been together, in silence, but even though they were not speaking the words flowed so freely from their eyes to one another. "I was just thinking. What about you? You seem tired, Alexander."

"I'm not leaving your side."

As soon as he said it there was a loud knock at the door. Alexander called out for the knocker to come in. He lifted his head away from Hephaestion. He then watched as Hephaestion shifted, slightly tilting his head back, and closed his eyes. Alexander could see that he was still in some pain. It may not be as bad as it was, which was largely in thanks to Bagoas' wondrous elixir, but he still ached and was still very tired. He'd been through far too much in the last many days. Alexander swallowed, knowing that it had all been his fault. But he turned his attention to Cleitus as he entered the room.

"What is it," Alexander asked. He had specifically stated that he did not want to be bothered. Especially if it had anything to do with the brawls breaking out between the Persians and the Macedonians. In his mind it wasn't his problem. It would resolve itself the moment that both sides stopped provoking the other. At this moment he had the idea of sending Cassander to take care of a few members from each side, to make a public example of them, but then took the thought back. That wouldn't help things, and he knew that Cassander would have no trouble doing it. He never thought that he'd view Cassander as his own assassin, but he now didn't mind it.

"I must insist that you talk to Cassander at this very moment," Cleitus said, and it sounded more like an order than anything else. Alexander shot him a warning glance. He may be a friend but he still had to watch what he said to him as the king. "Are you aware that he believes that he knows who poisoned Hephaestion?"

This caught Alexander's attention. He stood, and even Hephaestion found the strength to open his eyes and sit up a little. Cleitus didn't seem to be pleased about the news. Alexander crossed his arms and lifted his chin a little. It made him look fiercer. Not to mention, his eyes now held that predatory look, the look that Cassander constantly had in his eyes.

"Who," Alexander asked.

"That is what I'm concerned about," Cleitus retorted. "He's implicated that Princess Stateira and the Advisor have something to do with it."

Alexander found that interesting as well. But then again, he was starting to distrust all of the Persians around him. Except for Bagoas, who at the moment was helping more than anything, so he couldn't bring himself to stop trusting him. Not even Hephaestion had questioned the liquids the eunuch had been pouring down his throat. Hephaestion was sitting up, leaning against the four pillows Alexander had stacked for him, and was now curious about the accusation as well. He was actually more shocked at the idea of it then either of the other two. Alexander distrusted everyone at the moment, and Cleitus wanted to make sure the Persians didn't begin to revolt.

"Stateira?"

"Yes," Cleitus answered. "It is absurd Alexander. I'm beginning to think that Cassander has been poisoned too! Stateira is the Persian's princess, if he so much as touches her you're going to be fighting another war. This time, against those that you've decided to embrace."

"The Advisor," Alexander said, lost in thought. He seemed to trust Cassander's findings and didn't seem to care about listening to Cleitus. He then looked back to Cleitus. "Where is Cassander now?"

"He's in the middle of trying to convince the rest of us that Stateira and the Advisor are in fact the two behind this. He seems to have Ptolemy and Nearchus confused. As for the rest of us, we think he's lost his mind as well. You cannot allow him to continue like he does Alexander!"

"What do you know," Alexander screamed, snapping when Cleitus raised his voice to him. Rage came over him again. There was no situation in which Cleitus should believe that he held more power than Alexander.

"Alexander," Hephaestion called softly to him from the bed, warning him not to loose his temper. Alexander glanced over at him. He then looked back at Cleitus. "Perhaps you should go hear what Cassander has to say."

Alexander looked back down at him, "I don't feel like leaving you alone."

"Send Bagoas in then," Hephaestion said. It was harder for him to say it than anything he'd said in the last month. He tried hard not to look at the boy as if he were a rival. But no matter how hard he tried he knew that he'd been to bed with Alexander, held him, and touched him as only Hephaestion had done. The woman had never bothered him. Bagoas bothered him exceedingly. "You have confidence in him. I'll be fine, I may just sleep for awhile."

"Are you sure," Alexander asked, putting a hand on his forehead. He brushed a lock of hair away from his face. Hephaestion only nodded. His throat still was dry, no matter how much he drank. Bagoas swore that it would go away by the end of the day. It was an effect of the poison. Alexander nodded, knowing that if he didn't go by himself Hephaestion would try to go with him, and called for Bagoas. As soon as Bagoas entered Alexander left the room, for the first time in days. He felt better knowing that Bagoas would be with Hephaestion, but he still worried as he strode down the hall with Cleitus at his side.

0

0

0

Bagoas looked at the weakened Macedonian as he sat down on the chair that Hephaestion pointed at. It was the seat that Alexander had just left. Hephaestion then sighed and stared up at the ceiling. Bagoas knew that the other felt just as uncomfortable as he did. But he didn't sense that Hephaestion hated him. He felt a dislike, and a jealousy, but no hate. He wondered if Hephaestion felt the same thing. After a few moment Hephaestion glanced over at him. Then he moved his eyes back to the ceiling before his lips parted and he began to speak.

"He's going to confide things within you," Hephaestion told him as he stared up the ceiling. "He'll tell you things when he can't speak them to me. I want you to swear to me that you will never utter anything he says to you to another. Can you promise me that Bagoas? Can you vow to be loyal to him and betray him to no other, no matter what the consequences are?"

"Yes," Bagoas said without hesitation. He knew that he would never be able to betray Alexander. There was something great about him. It was the power that he had, not only in his leadership and military skills, but also in simple things. It was in the way that he entered a room that made him great. Not to mention, he had a way with others, even if they were slaves from a land he'd just conquered. He knew well that Alexander had his weaknesses, but he knew that those too were gifts of his in some way, and he would always get what he wanted –one way or another.

"Never lie to him," Hephaestion continued. "Never try to hide things from him. He'll eventually know, somehow. Don't let others convince you that he it others than he says he is, and what you know he is."

"I won't."

"If there comes a day that I'm not there to protect him, will you?"

"Yes."

"Even if it meant dying for him? Would you do that too Bagoas?"

Bagoas nodded. "If that was what would save his life, then yes. I would give him mine. As I know that you would. But what is it that you are trying to tell me?"

"Nothing," Hephaestion said, blinking. "I'm just telling you, should something happen to me one day. I know Alexander. He needs amusements in his life, and I know that. He'll wind up in your arms again. I just want you to know how to love him, how to protect him, sometimes even from himself."

"He'll always be yours."

"I know," Hephaestion agreed, not meaning it to sound vain either. But he knew that Alexander would always love him above all others. He would always come back to him. But in the meantime Hephaestion wanted him to be with others that he could trust. "Just keep him safe for me when you have him, and I don't."

"I shall."

Hephaestion said nothing else. Instead he closed his eyes, tilting his head farther back as he rested against the soft pillows. Bagoas sat, watching as he silently slipped into the land of dreams. He then looked around the room. He felt strange, having nothing to do but sit and watch Hephaestion. He knew that he wouldn't like someone watching him sleep. However, he knew that outside of this room, the palace would soon be turned upside down.

0

0

0

"I know that he did it," Cassander said as he shoved Parmenion back. Just as he did this Alexander entered the room. This was the only thing that kept Parmenion from lunging back at Cassander. As the moment was lost him mind cooled, and knew it would have been unwise to attack Cassander at the moment. He was rather rabid at the moment.

"He's lost his mind," Parmenion told Alexander, who approached. It was no use in saying it though. He knew that Alexander was just as far-gone as Cassander. They were both lost. Perhaps it wasn't poison that infected them, perhaps it was the love that Hephaestion had entranced the both of them with. "Alexander, I've already spoken to both Stateira and the Advisor. They had nothing to do with it!"

"What," Cassander spat back, "are you in league with them? She has no power now that Alexander has won Persia. The Advisor therefore tried to get her into power. It makes sense, Alexander takes her as a wife, since it would be the right thing for him to do to unite the kingdoms. But first they would have to get rid of Hephaestion! They both knew it. So the Advisor tried to do so! You're the ones that are to close minded to see it any other way. You'd all be happy if Hephaestion would have just been killed, because then you would be using your genitals on the concubines, not your brains on investigative matters!"

"How dare you," Cleitus shouted.

"How dare you," Cassander only fired back at him. Not Ptolemy and Nearchus had to hold him back as he lunged at the two elder men. He would tear their throats out. Then he could do as he wished. "You, you two old men that do nothing but argue with the rest of us. You speak of your old glorious battles but won't fight the ones in front of you! You're the failures, not I."

"Cassander," Alexander said as he came forward and grabbed his arm. He looked at him, sending him a quick glance, before pretending to reprimand him. "We will discuss this later, in a civilized fashion. For now, go to your room and don't dare think to leave it! Do you understand me?"

"Fine," Cassander snapped. He pulled himself free and rushed out of the room in a furry. As soon as he was down the hall he began to walk normally again. He wondered what Alexander had planned. But no matter what, he knew what Alexander's gaze had meant. He'd stall the others for some time. As he did, Cassander was free to go and question Stateira and the Advisor all he liked.

0

0

0

"You should have hit him back," Hephaestion said as he sat listening to Bagoas' story. It didn't surprise him that Bagoas had been beaten. He just didn't understand why it had been Darius to do so. He did not understand why the man had raped him, for Bagoas was already his property, and he didn't understand why he had to have so many women. All he knew, was that Darius had been a very odd character. Bagoas was silent, thinking of something to ask Hephaestion. They'd been playing this game since Hephaestion had woken.

"What about you," Bagoas asked. "Has Alexander ever hit you out of anger?"

"Yes, out of anger, out of love, out of passion. He's hit me in many different ways. Only once have I ever been mad at him for it though. But that doesn't matter. I don't have a horrifying tale to tell you." Hephaestion thought for a moment. He didn't know what to ask Bagoas next. The only thing that he could think of made him blush a little.

"What," Bagoas asked.

"Is," Hephaestion paused. "Is it different when you're, making love, and you don't climax?"

"How would I know?"

"Oh," Hephaestion said, clearing his throat. "I guess that's a good point. I'm sorry, I was just, wondering."

"Perhaps some day you and I will lie together, and you will see that there are other ways to prove your love."

Hephaestion glanced over at him. He didn't have to tell Bagoas that he would never lay with him. Bagoas already knew. He could see it in his eyes. This one was not like the others that gave their bodies away for sport and pleasure. He gave his heart to other's fist, then his body, with love. It was an interesting thing, the way that this blue eyed one was special. Hephaestion closed his eyes, preparing to fall into a light sleep again. This time Bagoas wouldn't try to move.

0

0

0

Cassander cursed as he stepped in the blood that was now making a thin pool on the floor. He immediately stepped back. Again he cursed as he looked at the great amount of blood that poured from the Advisor's throat. Cassander quickly turned and exited the room. He put the dagger at his side and made his way to his room. When he entered, Alexander was sitting on the edge of his bed. The king looked up and stood.

"Well," he asked. "What did he say? Why were you running?"

"Stateira gave him away like that," he told the king, sapping his fingers as he tossed the dagger onto the bed. He turned, running his hands through his hair, and then began to pace as he tried to catch his breath. "So I did what I should have done, I went to go and talk to him."

"Cassander why are you panicking," he asked.

"Because he was already dead," Cassander shouted. He threw his hands up when Alexander looked questioningly at him. "I don't know! I went into the room, and there he was on the floor, bleeding like an ox at a festival."

"He was already dead?"

"Are you listening at all to what I am trying to tell you?"

Cassander cursed to the gods again and then began to look for something to change into. His heart was racing, his mind was racing. The Advisor's death could only mean one thing. Someone else wanted him dead. Cassander glanced over at the king.

"Where's Bagoas?"

"With Hephaestion, why?"

"It doesn't matter. But whoever killed the Advisor is the same person that poisoned you. That's the only way that it would make sense. Stateira said that he was sneaking out, speaking to others. Whoever he was talking to was the person that got the venom."

"I thought we had decided that the venom was sent by my mother," Alexander said. He was beginning to find himself siding with Cleitus and Parmenion now. Maybe they should force Cassander to rest for awhile.

"It wasn't," Cassander insisted as he stripped himself of his chifton and changed. He didn't really worry about Alexander seeing him. Alexander glanced over though and looked at the stitches on his body, as well as the bruises. He then looked away, not sure if he wanted to see them anymore. "Someone, the real master behind all of this, gave it to the Advisor."

"And that would be who?"

"I can tell you who it's not," Cassander said with frustration. "It wasn't me, and it wasn't you, and it wasn't Hephaestion. Everyone else, I don't know. Who likes your mother?"

"What do you mean?"

"It was still her snake's venom," Cassander said as he began to pace again. He was now wearing a dark black chifton again. White was too easy to get stained and it was beginning to frustrate him, having to burn so many clothes. "I'm starting to think that whoever brought the venom, is someone closer to you than you know. Now I just need to find out who executed the Advisor."

He sighed, then punched a wall in anger. It was like he was starting all over again. It didn't matter though. At least he was closer to finding some kind of answer. He was going to prove his devotion to Hephaestion, and to Alexander, whether he needed to or not. The only thing that he could regret was not being able to see that son of a whore's pig Advisor die. It would have put him in a better mood.


	15. Final Attempt

Title: "The Persian Campaign"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 15, "Final Attempt"

A/N: Your reviews are all wonderful. Vania thanks so much for the name. Next time I mention the Advisor, I'll totally use it. Queen I can tell you that it is not a Persian. As for the rest of the question's, we'll see. –As for this chapter, it just thrusts you into the middle of a scene. It is much more interesting this way. It adds to the mystery as well. However, things are going to begin to come together. Enjoy! Please review if you have the chance!

0

0

0

Silence filled the room, it thickened, and it could have been cut through with a sword. He stared up at the ceiling, listening to the calm breathing of the one that stood above him at his side, and thought of nothing. He just continued to see the ceiling, nothing more, just that dull colored ceiling in this beautiful palace. Swallowing, he tasted copper in his mouth, the taste of blood. Again he swallowed, tasting more blood, and he felt as if it were going to choke him. The one above him reached down and pushed his head further back, tilting it more, forcing him again to swallow blood.

"How does it feel," a darkened voice said. He didn't pretend to hear it. It was just a mumble to him now. The ceiling was so dull and boring. There was a shadow as someone stepped over him. He didn't even know who it was. His eyes focused only on the ceiling, and he couldn't move them away. For a moment he thought that he could feel the cool floor beneath him, but it was quickly washed away again. He couldn't feel a thing, but he could stare up at that ceiling, and watch the nothingness that surrounded him.

They left him there and that scared him the most. He wanted them to finish it, but they hadn't. Again he swallowed and tasted blood. This time he coughed, but it only forced him to swallow again. He was drowning, this was all he knew. He didn't know how to stop it and it didn't even occur to him to try to move. He could only lie there, choking on his own blood, staring at a ceiling. This was not the way he'd imagined his death. Again he coughed, this time swallowing and trying to call out for help. Instead of a sound, there was only a gurgling sound.

Tears began to fall from his eyes as he helplessly lay there. He squeezed his eyes shut to force the tears from his eyes when they clouded his vision. Again he swallowed. After a moment it began to sink in. He was going to die like this if he didn't move. He had to move, but he couldn't, and it only made him cry more. He was so helpless, and it was the last thing he'd wanted to be. Again, he made a gurgling gasp as he tried to lift his head. No, he still couldn't breathe. His mind screamed at him to move.

He flung his right arm over to the left side of his body. He was so limp. With a sudden push he rolled himself onto his stomach. His mouth opened and blood came pouring out. He put his forehead to the ground, not moving, but feeling each and every drop of blood that poured from his mouth. Suddenly he began to cough, his body shaking as he tried to push himself off of the floor. He only managed to get an inch off of the ground before falling back, forcing more blood from his mouth. Weakly he reached up and put a hand to his cheek. The cut there had gone straight through. He could put all four of his fingers in a line and put them through the wound if he wanted to, straight into his mouth. But he knew better than to do it. For a moment he wondered if the cut that had been put across his tongue would heal. At least it was still there though.

He lifted his head so that he could see the floor in front of him. He then threw his arm out, grabbed the post of the end of the bed, and tried to pull himself forward. Desperately he pulled, and tried to drag his lower legs, but it hurt more than anything he'd ever experienced. This wasn't a time to be heroic, he knew, but he couldn't give up and die either. He had to get to them before it was too late. Again he pulled himself forward, and this time he felt his opposite wrist snap, the bone finally breaking. A deep moan forced pain through his entire body and blood from his mouth. Tears fell from his eyes again.

It hurt, that was all that he could think about for the moment. He moved his shoulder, moving his broken wrist from under his body. He drug it against the ground but really couldn't feel it. For a moment all he could do was cry. The pain mixed with the helplessness was exhausting him. Blood dripped down his throat and he opened his mouth and let the rest pour out. When he opened his mouth he felt the tear in his cheek begin to tug, and felt it almost widen it seemed. Finally he let go of the post, and then began to try to pull himself off of the floor. He put his hand higher on the post and pulled himself closer to the bed. Then he put his other arm around the pole and began to pull himself up, using one hand, and his elbow and arm. His wrist seemed to dangle as he pulled himself up. It seemed to take forever, but he was soon standing.

"Ah," he said crying as he looked down at the floor. The pool of blood scared him and he began to look down at his chest. There was a deep cut, and it bled worse than his cheek. Cassander held tight to the post with his elbow, then put his hand over his chest, and reached for the flap of hanging skin that hung from the wound. So this was what it would have looked like all over his body if he had been skinned alive. Luckily, it was only a cut that was four inches in length, about one inch deep, but the layer of skin was thinner, but it had been pulled further away from the wound, and was hanging about an inch and a half. He put the skin over the red mess that he saw, and then looked desperately around the room.

There was a candle and he had an idea that would make doctors cringe. He knew that he would fall if he reached for the candle, back to the floor, but he knew he needed to do something. He could only hope that he could get back up. So he suddenly pushed himself forward when he let go of the post and reached out for the candle. His face collided with the side of the dresser, his nose being crushed and began to bleed, and he fell back to the ground. The candle was still in his hand though as he crumpled to the floor in tears. The pain in the rest of his body caused him to be completely ignorant to the pain in his nose.

He glanced at the melted wax at the candle's center. Then, looking away, he removed his hand from the patch of skin and poured the hot wax over his chest. Tears stung his eyes and he moaned as the wax burned his chest, but it sealed the flesh, gluing it back against the previously opened flesh. The wax had put out the candle and he looked at it as it was held in his hand. He then threw it the best he could, hitting a metallic mirror, and watched as it fell from a stand to the floor with a loud clang. Someone had to hear it. But after a few moments he knew that no one was coming.

Tears streamed down his face and he reached up with a hand and pulled the hair out of his face. He then reached behind him and grabbed a drawer of the dresser. Slowly he began to pull himself up. Reaching back as he was rising he pressed his broken wrist to the dresser as well to steady himself. He glanced over at the door, and knew that he could make it. Suddenly he knew that he had to do it. He couldn't die, that was what they had wanted. He had to get to Hephaestion and Alexander, he had to warn them, he'd figured it out. Cassander drew in another breath and then began to shakily walk to the door, reaching down as he passed a stand he picked up his dagger.

0

0

0

Hephaestion lightly tapped Alexander on the head again. The king rested his head on his chest, and was sleeping soundly. Hephaestion felt the blade being dug deeper into his throat. He glared at its beholder as he put a hand on the back of Alexander's neck and ran a finger up and down the hairs just at the base of his neck. Alexander moaned, and then began to stir. He slowly began to awaken, and knew as he did that something was wrong. Hephaestion didn't move, but the man pressed the blade into his throat even more.

Alexander was up instantly when he saw the blade at Hephaestion's throat. He followed it to the face of the man that held it. It was the last person he would have suspected. Alexander lifted himself off of Hephaestion and began to lift himself off of the bed. But the man shook his head and pressed the blade further into Hephaestion's throat. Alexander quickly stopped moving. He sat back down on the edge of the bed and stared into the dark depths of the eyes that had betrayed him.

"Lower that blade," Alexander ordered. His voice was powerful, even in the situation, and he knew what he wanted. He wanted him to back up. He wanted that sword away from Hephaestion.

"Alexander," Hephaestion whispered, careful not to move too much. He reached over with a hand and grabbed his forearm. Silently he held him back. It wasn't himself he worried about. What he worried about was Alexander, and judging by the blood already covering the swordsman and the blade, he worried about Cassander as well.

"Oh, the whore speaks," the swordsman said bitterly as he dug the sword's tip even further into his throat. The blue eyed one tilted his head back and let the tip of the blade lightly graze his flesh, leaving a small cut against him. He didn't breathe, and dared not swallow, but stared back at the man. He still didn't seem to be afraid.

"Why," Alexander had the nerve to ask. "Why did you do it?"

"What are you asking me," the man laughed. "Are you asking why now? Why here? Why the elaborate plan? Is that what you're asking me Alexander?"

"Yes."

"Huh! Do you even have to ask? Alexander, I tried to tell you that crossing into Persia was insane. I tried to warn you. As for the plan, I couldn't just kill you in Macedonia. If I killed you there it would be far too easy for someone to suspect me. Here, with all of these Persians around, they are all suspects. I'll go free. Then, once you are dead, we can all go home."

"And Hephaestion? What was the benefit of trying to kill him?"

"He's smarter than you give him credit for, whore or not. He would have figured it out, so I decided that he needed to die too. It wasn't easy to convince the Advisor (Farnacus) to help me either."

"What did you promise him," Hephaestion asked, defiantly speaking when he should not have been doing to. "Did you tell him that Alexander would marry Stateira? Is that what you told him?"

"It worked," he answered before digging the blade deeper. "Besides, with you gone, there would be nothing to stop me from taking command of it all. Or so I thought, until Cassander had to get involved. It was rather odd to see him caring for you as he did. I knew him only as a killer before he bent you over."

"You son of a," Alexander began but the blade was pressed against Hephaestion's throat more. There was a slight prick again and a few drops of blood slid down his neck. Alexander stopped. He didn't want to risk hurting Hephaestion.

"I wasn't done." The betrayer then sighed. "Yes, he acted so differently. That's why I had to keep him uninformed. Otherwise, he'd be standing here with me. But he became Alexander's personal assassin, looking in every direction for an answer. I don't know how he found things out. I didn't think he was so wise. But he did, so I sadly had to get rid of him too, and it wasn't hard to get some Persian help. He's made himself a rather hated man."

Hephaestion didn't say anything. The look was in his eyes. It made the other laugh as he pushed the blade even closer, piercing more skin, causing more bleeding. The little whore had just found out that his new lover was dead. It must be painful, knowing your lover was dead, and you and the other lover were about to join him.

"Oh yes," he continued. "Cassander put up quite a good fight. I have to admit, I can see what you like about him. Although he didn't scream when I raped him."

"No," Hephaestion screamed as he suddenly pushed the blade away from his throat with a hand. He then tried to lunge at him, even in bed, but Alexander held him back. The blade began to press into his chest as he flung himself over Hephaestion. Yet the betrayer didn't stab him yet, just laughed.

"You should control him Alexander, or he'll get you killed."

"By the gods…"

"Yes," he sighed as he interrupted Alexander. "I already know that you vow to kill me. Interesting, I don't think that you're in the position to make such threats Alexander. What," he asked Hephaestion, mocking him all the while. "Did he scream for you?"

Hephaestion didn't answer. Instead he bit down on his tongue and dug his hands into the sheets. Alexander still was shielding him. Had he not been, Hephaestion would throw this scum to the floor and tear out his eyes. Instead he just wondered what had happened to Cassander. He couldn't be dead, it was impossible. Hephaestion would feel some kind of void if he were truly dead.

0

0

0

He pulled himself forward even more, using the wall to steady himself. As he continued to walk blood continued to stain the wall. He had to stop, tried to breathe, let blood slip out of the corners of his mouth and run down his chin. It wasn't much farther. He had to get there. For a moment he wondered why no others were up at this hour, there were usually people swarming this hall. But it made sense again. There would be no guards if he had dismissed them, that son of a whore.

Cassander leaned against the door when he reached it. He listened, listened to the muffled voices from within. Slowly, he began to push the door open, making sure to make no noise. As soon as he was in the darkness of the entrance of the room he shut the door with the same silence. Everything ached. Blood spilled from his cheek, from his chest, from his leg, from his back, and from one area he didn't even want to think about. He then heard voices.

"He won't need testicles where he's going," he heard him say. Cassander just leaned against the wall, holding the dagger in his palm. He had to use it. He had to kill him. But at the same time he knew that he'd only have one chance to do so. He heard Alexander leap up then, heard him begin to scuffle with the other. Everything in his body ached, and he suddenly was sliding to the floor.

He held the dagger firm in his grasp and continued to crawl, this time faster than before. Blood poured from his mouth, and he could hear it hitting the floor. He only hoped that no others could. Suddenly he heard Alexander fall to the floor. He heard Hephaestion struggling to sit up, poison still weakening him. Cassander grabbed a pole, only his hand in the light, and he then pulled himself up. Holding the dagger tightly, he came into the light. Alexander was on the floor, a blade about to be shoved into his chest, there was nothing stopping the owner of the weapon. Not yet, but Cassander was going to change that. Hephaestion gasped when he saw him, which first caught Cleitus' attention.

"Cleitus," Cassander managed to scream out, and just as he began to turn, Cassander threw the blade. Cleitus could do nothing other than watch the blade strike him in the forehead between the eyes. Alexander stared in horror at Cassander, not Cleitus, as the man they'd all once trusted fell to the floor. What a wonderful charade he'd played, tricking them all for so long, pretending that he cared. Cleitus hit the floor, dead before he struck, eyes still staring at Cassander.

"Cassander," Alexander said as he scrambled off of the floor and rushed toward him. Cassander had slid to the floor by the time Cleitus had hit the floor. He coughed, blood falling from the corners of his mouth, but shook his head. Alexander sunk down next to him, grabbing his face, and Hephaestion forced himself out of the bed. He fell to the floor, but managed to crawl towards Cassander without too much dizziness. Alexander only continued to scream at Cassander as his eyes rolled back in his head. "Cassander!"

"Still," he said, blood pouring from his mouth as he mumbled the words that he said in his hysteria, "…still have…my…testicles…"

Hephaestion threw his arms around him and held Cassander against him, crying as he did so. He rocked back and forth, not knowing even if Cassander was dead or alive. Hephaestion felt him go limp in his arms, but he could hear him gurgling, trying to breathe. Alexander leapt up and was running out into the hall, screaming for doctors, screaming for Bagoas. Screaming for anyone that would listen.

"Cassander," Hephaestion cried onto his bloodied cheek as he held him. He said the name over and over again as Cassander's blood poured onto him. He said it again and again. But Cassander wasn't able to hear a word he said. Sweet oblivion had taken him.


	16. Remembering Details

Title: "The Persian Campaign"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 16, "Remembering Details"

A/N: Once again, thanks for the reviews. Yes, I know Cleitus was a very interesting choice. But the ones closest to you are often those willing the most to betray you for their own gain. However, don't start looking at your friends oddly now. Anyway, I promise that Cassander isn't dead. Here is the next chapter, so let me know what you think!

0

0

0

He didn't know what was worse just yet. It could have been the memory, could have been the actuality, but might have been the pain. No matter which it was, the reason for his thrashing in his sleep, he didn't know. But he was subconsciously aware of his tossing and turning. He was aware that soft hands would reach for him, lying him back down, stroking him in areas. Every now and then he could feel cool hands running over his skin with thick salves that smelled either wonderful or terrible. There was no middle point in the smell. Yet he couldn't bring himself to fully waken.

There was something that kept him not in the world and not in the dream world. He'd slip between the two, but was in overall darkness. From time to time he could hear those that surrounded his bed whisper things, speaking of how they could not believe the events that had unfolded. It was hard, trying to listen, while you couldn't hear things clearly and couldn't open your eyes. It was even worse when you became awkwardly dizzy in your own head, and you felt as if you were falling to the ground suddenly, but you weren't, and then complete darkness and silence took you again. He was going in and out of both worlds, but didn't want to awaken in either.

If he was in the land of dreams, there were no dreams, just a slew of a thousand unwanted nightmares. No, not nightmares, but they were memories. He'd see Cleitus, remember not only what he'd done to him and the ones he cared about, but he could feel it. He could feel each blow, each stab, each time he forcefully held him down and pushed himself into him. It was worse when he remembered Cleitus pulling both of his arms back, bending them uncomfortably, and when he'd tried to fight back the other had just cracked his wrist. He didn't break it, but left it just on the verge of it, and Cassander had been the one to finish the job. He wasn't sure what it looked like now but knew that it couldn't look like it did and would likely never work the same again, and he wondered about that, among other things.

He'd never thought himself to have appealing looks, for that was hard when you had Hephaestion in you encampment, but he'd always known that he was not displeasing to look at. He was what he considered a man to be. They weren't supposed to be overly attractive, that was what the women were for, except for Hephaestion. Somehow he'd slipped by, passing for a man, but he should have been a woman. No, he took that back, for he was the most wonderful man he'd ever known and it wasn't even the looks that made him think such of him. But it was looks that were keeping him from waking, leaving him shadowed in darkness, afraid to reenter the light.

He didn't know what he looked like now, that's what worried him the most. The beating Alexander had given him was bad enough. It was so bad at times he knew that he would die, knew that eventually Alexander would kill him, his body mutilated. But he hadn't died and his wounds had been bad enough. Most of the cuts on his thigh would be thin, less than visible scars, which didn't bother him. They wouldn't be that horrendous to look at. The bruises would fade, as would anything else Alexander had taken from him. There would only be thin white scars to remind him of such things and they wouldn't be that bad. This was in part thanks to Bagoas, who had known a few tricks, and for once Cassander found something useful in the boy apart from his backside.

As he began to think, he wondered how long it had taken for the wax to be peeled from his chest. He wondered what his chest looked like. Only when he'd begun to feel pain again for the first time after he'd fallen from killing Cleitus had the thought occurred to him that he could be seriously hurt. He recalled blood, too much blood, but hadn't thought about it at the time. He'd felt the pain, seen the blood then, but pushed it to the back of his mind. Now he couldn't help but wonder if it had been too much blood. He next recalled the dagger to the side of his face. Perhaps he shouldn't have turned his head at that moment. He could feel it, even now, the slit in the side of his cheek that went straight through. For some odd reason he could remember a burning sensation later sweeping over the area when he'd been trying to awaken, but remember nothing other than that.

Cleitus, the thought popped into his head unwillingly. He didn't want to think about him at all. He just wanted peace, the blackness that he'd grown to love so much in the last few hours of tossing and turning. It was true, Cleitus had been behind everything. Cassander could barely remember how he'd found out and how things had unfolded, leading to this. He'd gone to Farnacus', the Advisor, room and had found him already dead. The fact that another had killed him before he did was at first what bothered him. He'd wanted to slit the bastard's throat for what he'd done to Hephaestion. Yet it had begun to make sense that he wasn't truly the one in charge of things. A Macedonian was, one that could have gotten venom, and one that Alexander would have never suspected. From such observations he had a long list.

But then again, he began to take names from that list and think them over, and slowly it had begun to unfold. The plotter had to have been someone with a grand amount of power. And they would have been able to poison Alexander's drink, which only someone very close could have done with not a single pair of eyes seeing him. Cassander eliminated from the group most of the Companions immediately, especially Ptolemy. He felt bad for even thinking his name at first. Ptolemy was a kind soul, one who wouldn't lie or betray someone, at least he let that aura out. Cassander didn't know for sure yet, at least not anymore. He couldn't trust anyone apart from Hephaestion anymore, and perhaps in time, Alexander.

As soon as he's found out about Farnacus, suddenly the real mastermind of everything had killed him. If he wasn't alive he wouldn't be able to tell Cassander anything important. Like perhaps Cleitus' name. But Cassander had figured it out, somehow, putting all of the names together. He had to find someone that wanted the King and the Grand Vizier dead, had to find someone close to both of them that would know when they struggled and when they were weakest, had to find someone that had enough power to sit in a room and still be a friend and look them in the eye while planning the whole thing, and he had to find someone that could make false deals with Persians. Once he'd figured all of this out Cleitus' name had leapt out of his mind and hit him for not thinking of it sooner. Of course it had been Cleitus. It explained everything.

It explained why he had been so close to Alexander for the last days before Alexander had become poisoned. Because if he'd been close it would make perfect sense for him to be close afterwards. He hadn't tried to help Hephaestion and him escape. He'd knowingly sent Hephaestion to his death, either by the forces of the wild, or by the poison that he was eventually inflicted with. The second time they had left, Cleitus had known, for he had to have. He'd known all along! He was the one that had called the guards away from the gate, not Ptolemy, who'd only come up with the plan. Cleitus was going to send Hephaestion to die, making sure that Bagoas would not be near to help him. Cassander meant nothing to him and was glad to be rid of him.

But Cassander and Hephaestion returned, immediately beginning to thwart every plan that he had thought of. With Hephaestion back Alexander wasn't going to listen to him and blindly appoint him in charge, should he die, like he'd planned. Alexander often agreed to things when angry, and not paying any attention to what was spoken. Even Cassander knew that. With Cassander back, he'd begun to dig through things, finding answers and clues that Cleitus had not known he'd left behind. So when Cassander had gone to the council and told them he knew Farnacus and Stateira were involved, he'd panicked. As Cassander spoke with Stateira he'd gone and killed Farnacus, the poor idiot never seeing it coming.

Once Cassander had put the pieces together he'd gone to Cleitus' room. The guards said he was not in and Cassander had dumbly told them to give him the message that he was looking for him. But it never was delivered and didn't need to be. When Cassander had gotten back to his room Cleitus, along with some very unhappy Persians, had been waiting for him. They'd attacked him, the numbers truly unfair, and had beaten him. Cleitus had told him everything as he let the Persians beat Cassander to a bloody pulp on the floor. However, only now could Cassander remember all the things he said, for at the time he'd been trying to fight back.

Cleitus dismissed the Persians. They waited down the hall, scattered in the shadows, just incase Cleitus needed them. It was unlikely though. Cassander could barely move so how could he fight so well back? When Cleitus had grabbed his groin Cassander immediately knew what he was planning to do to him. Even though he knew he couldn't fend him off, Cassander had still tried to fight back. He'd struck him a few times with his fist, but it was rather useless. Weak arms couldn't land hard enough punches. Cleitus had quickly torn Cassander's loincloth away from him, leaving only his Macedonian garments on, which stopped at the higher half of the thigh. Still trying to fight with no avail Cassander was thrown to the edge of the bed, where Cleitus grabbed him and bent him over. Cassander had managed to kick him in the crotch though, which had only ended badly for Cassander. Cleitus pulled him up, spun him around, and slammed his head into a dresser. Cassander couldn't remember how many times, but knew everything had become unclear, but he'd still been awake.

Again he was thrown down, and Cleitus grabbed a fistful of hair and arched his head back. He thought he'd put Cassander out, but he hadn't. Cassander reached suddenly for the Persian dagger that Cleitus had carelessly tossed onto the bed and tried to swing around and strike Cleitus with it. The only mark he made was a small cut on his arm. Cleitus, furious, grabbed his wrist and began to break it. He grabbed the dagger from him, and just as Cassander turned his head to fight with him, stabbed the blade through his cheek. It had only added to the haziness in Cassander's vision and mind, but it hadn't stopped him from trying to fight.

Cleitus grabbed his arms and forced them behind his back. He held him forcefully as he violently thrust himself into him. Already things were hazy, dim, but Cassander had still felt it. It hurt more than the gushing wound on the side of his face did as he tried to open his mouth. It only tore it open more and brought attention to him that his tongue bled as well. He felt his wrist bend more as he tried to still weakly struggle. Cleitus was soon done with him though, but it had been the longest time Cassander could have ever remembered. Next he was thrown to the floor, his chest torn open and flesh peeled back with the blade. He was choking on his own blood, couldn't fight, and didn't have the strength in him to do so.

Only after Cleitus left did Cassander stare up at the ceiling, thinking he was dying, and wondered how he could help Alexander and Hephaestion before it was too late. As he stared up at that ceiling he'd thought of nothing. But deep down, somewhere, he'd thought of Hephaestion who would never want him again if he knew about what had just happened. Then, that protectiveness had come back to him. Hephaestion, he had to get to him, had to before Cleitus did, and only then did he try to move. Everything after was only a blur of pain, then Cleitus falling to the ground, and then he fell to the ground too.

Now he lay in blackness, not sure if he was alive or dead, or dying. He began to hear little pieces of conversations again. He felt someone come closer, even though he couldn't see them, and knew that they'd just gripped his shoulder and said something to him. What it was, he didn't know, but it was likely someone begging for him to get well. He knew though that it hadn't been Hephaestion. It wasn't soft enough. It hadn't been tender enough to have been Hephaestion. He wanted to feel him touch him. He wanted him beside him. Just after thinking that, everything in his body ached again, and he began to toss again. Hands placed him down, but he still was in blackness, and was slipping back to dreadful memories.

0

0

0

"Cassander," Hephaestion whispered as he lightly held him down. A small trail of blood came from the right corner of his mouth. Every time he moved it seemed that either his tongue or cheek bled. Hephaestion wiped it away with his fingers, not knowing how else to help him. He had his own aches and pains, and he wasn't supposed to be out of bed yet, but he had to be. He had to sit next to him, holding his hand, and had to be there when he woke up like Cassander had been for him. Cassander had stopped flailing though and was now back in the same unconsciousness he'd been in for the last five hours. Hephaestion took a hand and pushed the dampened locks of hair that lingered on his forehead away. He was so pale, so dreadfully ill looking, but still so much stronger than he had been. Hephaestion let go of his hand for a moment go take the soaking cloth from the basin of warm water, along with whatever else Bagoas had poured into it, and lifted it. He rung it out and then lightly wiped the sweat away from Cassander's face. The hardest area was his cheek, where Hephaestion had been told to wipe the water even over the stitches. Hephaestion found it hard every time, knowing that if Cassander could feel it he would be quaking in pain. Each time he wiped away at the wound, no matter how lightly he did it, the corners seemed to bleed.

Bagoas assured him that it was better for the wound to bleed than immediately seal. It could catch infection if it sealed shut instantaneously. The blood that was dripping from the corners was a good sign. It would push out any germs that had managed to fester in the wound. Hephaestion had no choice but to believe him. Bagoas also assured him that in the warm water there were leaves soaking at the bottom, which gave way a chemical like a sedative, which would dull the entire area. Once again, all Hephaestion could do was trust that Bagoas knew what he was doing.

He returned the cloth when finished and then took Cassander's hand again. He looked at the other that rested on his lower chest. Bagoas had also done the bandage around it. There was no splint, just a salve and a layer of leaves, then a thin gauze bandage to hold everything in place. Hephaestion had wondered about this. All Bagoas did to reassure him was show him his own wrist, bending it each way and then turning it, just to show him that it had worked on others.

There was nothing more he could do now other than wait. He held Cassander's hand, holding him tightly. After a few minutes of staring, he heard the door open. Alexander entered, dressed again in Persian attire, the robe billowing out behind him as he walked. He brought Hephaestion a cup of water, handing it silently to him, but with more tenderness than he had showed him in the last weeks. Hephaestion took a drink, then just held the cup in his free hand. Alexander sat down next to him, putting an arm around Hephaestion's shoulder, and was silent. After a few moments Hephaestion sunk against him, letting his head rest against his chest, and Alexander wrapped his arm tighter around him. He kissed the top of his head and let his lips rest against his dark hair.

"Be strong for him," Alexander whispered. He felt Hephaestion's tears fall onto his bare chest. It was a feeling he liked, but he didn't like Hephaestion's pain. He wanted to absolve it from him, free his mind from the uneasy thoughts he had, but he was after all only a man. He already knew the thoughts that plagued Hephaestion. It wasn't his fault though, despite what he thought. Alexander wasn't sure where to place the blame, or where to spread it out, but it wasn't Hephaestion's fault.

"Alexander," Hephaestion whispered, tears falling, but he was keeping his sanity. He really was trying to remain calm. Alexander stared down at him, seeing only the white of his cheek from the angle, but Alexander still looked down at him. "Do you think that he was awake, for all of it?"

Alexander knew what he meant. He didn't answer for a moment. He just stared at Cassander, knowing him all to well. Cassander was a fighter. He wasn't one that would give up. Alexander knew that Cassander had fought through every excruciating moment of it. Yet he knew Hephaestion as well. If he were to think that Cassander had gone through it all, still fighting, it would only crush him. Alexander stared back down at Hephaestion and then softly answered.

"He couldn't have," Alexander told him in a soft assurance. Whether or not Hephaestion believed him, he wasn't sure. Yet it didn't matter. Hephaestion had begun to wipe tears away from his face. As he did Alexander stared at Cassander and knew the exact opposite. He'd gone through it all, would remember it all, but would never mention it again. Especially in front of Hephaestion.

Perhaps that was what Alexander saw in front of him, when he looked at Cassander. He saw himself. Cassander had the same fears that Alexander did, he just hid them better. He worried about his fate, ran from his father like Alexander did his mother, and he would keep going until it killed him. Alexander knew they were the same, with the exception of the way that Cassander handled his emotions. He hid them, and later put them at the tip of a blade, but would never hurt those closest to him unlike Alexander. Alexander put his other hand to his head and rested it against his temple as he leaned back. Cassander was so much like him that it scared him. But at the same time, he wasn't afraid of him at all, for they both held one thing closest to them. Hephaestion's heart.

Alexander hurt him, but never on purpose, but he still did it. Cassander on the other hand had not hurt him. Alexander couldn't see him doing so in the future either. For that, he put faith in him. He looked back down at Hephaestion, whose eyes were red from tears, but were now looking up at his own. Alexander gave him a soft smile and wiped a tear from under his eye with his thumb. Hephaestion was the only thing in the world that he cared about. He was the only thing in the world that he had. He was the only thing, and now he had to share his heart with Cassander. Alexander knew that Cassander and Hephaestion would never have what he had with Hephaestion, but he knew that it would be enough, and because he loved Hephaestion he would have to sit back and let Hephaestion's heart wander where it did. He would come back, Alexander didn't fear that, just as Hephaestion didn't fear for Alexander when he took other women as lovers.

"What are you thinking," Hephaestion asked. Alexander only shook his head softly. He couldn't tell Hephaestion that he was letting him go, because in all reality he wasn't. He was just going to let him do as he wanted and hope that things worked out for the best. Already he knew that Hephaestion had told Bagoas. It was bittersweet to know, knowing the feelings that Hephaestion had never spoken. Yet, he shouldn't have had to. He remembered what Hephaestion had said to him, about Alexander killing him but he was never able to see it. That had been true, but Alexander was going to fix that. He wasn't going to smother the light anymore. He had to do better.

"I was just thinking, wondering about things," Alexander said. Hephaestion would think he was wondering why Cleitus had betrayed him. But he'd already thought about it and was now over it. A few more Persians were going to be executed, but that would come later, and neither Cassander nor Alexander would be doing the executing. Nearchus, Ptolemy, and Parmenion could take care of it. There were disgusted enough with the entire situation to do so.

"Oh," Hephaestion said. He sat back up, trying to remain awake. Next he picked up the cloth in the basin and wiped Cassander's face again. Alexander watched him and wondered if Cassander even felt a thing. When finished, Hephaestion put the cloth back and returned to Alexander's chest. He leaned against him and after a few moments found his eyelids becoming heavier and heavier. Before he knew it, he was asleep against Alexander's chest.

0

0

0

Agony. That was all that he felt as he tried so soften his lower lip. His jaw had been in the same position for hours and it ached. His entire face ached. Yet at the same time it was almost soothing when he felt something moist pressed against the slit in the side of his face. Cassander felt gauze on his tongue, and something sticky, and it tasted awful. He slowly forced his eyes open and found himself staring up at cerulean eyes. But he wasn't lying on a bed anymore, he soon realized, he was in a bath of warm water. Glancing up he saw Alexander, saw Bagoas, and then looked back at Hephaestion. Why were they all staring at him so? He wondered how he'd gotten from the bed to the tub, wondered how he'd been undressed, but decided not to think about it. The only one that hadn't seen him before was Bagoas, and he really was in too much pain to care about his nudity for the moment.

"You had a fever," Hephaestion answered to him, using a soft tone, hoping that if Cassander had a headache he wouldn't annoy him. But Cassander wasn't worried about that. He was worried about all the light in the room. There were far too many candles. They hadn't all been there before, and he knew that someone else had put them there. He glanced around, looking at all of the candles, and Hephaestion followed his eyes. "Its too bright."

Alexander began to blow some of the candles out. The Persian just backed away, standing in a corner, and stared at the ground. Cassander watched him for a moment, but then tried to focus on Hephaestion again. Hephaestion put a hand on his cheek, pressing the wet cloth against his wound. Cassander didn't say anything, but blinked a little with the pain of it once he felt it. He still had something in his mouth but didn't want to open it. Instead he lifted a hand, pointing to his mouth before his hand fell back.

"It's a salve. Don't worry, you'll swallow it before too long," Alexander answered before Hephaestion did. He glanced at the blue eyed one. He still worried, seeing the reaction that Hephaestion was having. It was the beginning of his tears mixed with guilt, a guilt that he shouldn't have.

"Ow," Cassander managed to say when Hephaestion touched his chest. Hephaestion withdrew his hand from the area. When he looked up tears fell from the sides of Cassander's eyes. He pushed himself up a little, and Hephaestion worriedly looked at him.

"I'm sorry," he apologized.

"No," Cassander began, slurring and mumbling words as he tried to talk, the numbing pain splitting his head in two. "Not you…he…it was…Cleitus…and…hurts…"

It wouldn't make sense unless you knew what he was trying to say. In that one fragmented sentence he had really tried to say so much more. He wasn't mad at Hephaestion. Cleitus had been the one that had planned it all. Cleitus was the one that had done this to him. But overall, he just meant to say that it hurt. Alexander knew what he meant to say. He nodded towards Bagoas and he left the room. Alexander then put a hand on Hephaestion's shoulder, and Hephaestion looked up at him. He knew that Alexander wanted to speak alone to Cassander for a few moments. Hephaestion kissed the back of Cassander's hand and then stood, tears in his eyes, and left the room, shutting the door as he did so.

"You're brave," Alexander said as he sat down. "A barbaric killer without reason at times, but you're brave."

"Thanks," Cassander muttered as he swallowed some of the salve Hephaestion was talking about. It was thick, glue like, and disgusting. He glanced over at Alexander, who now had tears. He'd waited for Hephaestion to leave the room before breaking apart.

"I'm so sorry Cassander."

"Not…your fault." He swallowed more salve. Alexander had taken his hand and was holding it. But he was also crying. Yet it was Cassander that did something dramatically unexpected. "I…forgave you…days ago."

0

0

A/N: Hey, if you haven't reviewed yet, look to your left. See that little purple GO square? Hit it. I dare you! Everyone else, that already reviews, let me know what you think!


	17. Loving Anew

Title: "The Persian Campaign"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 17, "Loving Anew"

A/N: Here is another sensual and loving chapter, between two lost souls, which were lovers. In this chapter, they are going to discover one another once again. However, it is not as graphic as the last sexual scene. I've toned it down to preserve the ice in cokes out there everywhere!  I hope you all enjoy!

0

0

0

He watched him sleep for some time after entering the room. He was curled up on the bed, still fully dressed, and still completely beautiful. It had been useless to try to get him to sleep in the last hours. Yet now he was sound asleep. Alexander crawled onto the bed and put an arm over Hephaestion's waist. He rested his forehead against his back, and listened to the mellow breathing of his lover. Hephaestion didn't stir at first, but then upon feeling Alexander's arm over his waist, moved his own hand to meet with Alexander's. Still quite asleep he took his hand and held it loosely with his own. Alexander kissed Hephaestion's hair, and with his other hand lightly began to rub his back. He knew that it would not wake him, but would ease his tensed muscles. He missed this, just lying with him. No words needed to be spoken to make things better. All that he needed was already with him. Just the comfort of having him within his reach was enough. Alexander lightly rubbed the back of his neck but did so in a fashion that he hoped would not waken Hephaestion. It had been so long since he had slept.

"Hmm," Hephaestion said as he pulled Alexander's arm closer to him. Alexander therefore moved closer, closing the remaining space between. His chest was pressed firmly against Hephaestion's back, and his hips were firmly pressed against the curve of Hephaestion's backside. Alexander held his hand still and the other he used to pull Hephaestion's hair away from the back of his neck. He then lightly rubbed the sides of his neck, feeling the tension slip away from Hephaestion as he held him.

There was something about the way that he touched him now that had changed. It was softer, delicate, as if Hephaestion were a precious metal that could bend and break at any moment. He was precious, held higher than anything else in Alexander's mind, and he needed him. He needed him not only as the sun needed the stars. Alexander needed him like a man needed air to fill his lungs with. Hephaestion was the one that kept him alive in this world and he couldn't let go of him. He couldn't let him slip away from him like sand in an hourglass.

"What are you thinking," Hephaestion whispered as Alexander lightly placed a kiss upon the back of his neck. He should have let him continue to kiss him but the words just seemed to flow out of him. Alexander continued to kiss that back of his neck for a moment. This was what Hephaestion remembered Alexander as when he would dream about him. He remembered Alexander, as a younger boy, kissing him like this in Pella before his mother had come between them. He had been waiting for this tenderness to return, and was glad that it had. Yet id had taken so much to get to this point. He only wondered what would happen when everything went back to normal. Hephaestion let go of Alexander's hand. He then turned over, facing Alexander, and draping his arm over Alexander's waist as he did to him.

"I love you," Alexander said as he stared into the cerulean depths that he loved so much. He reached out and ran his fingers over Hephaestion's cheek. He touched him tenderly, feeling the youthful flesh beneath his fingers. Hephaestion let his lower lip begin to pout as it always did when he was most relaxed. Alexander ran his thumb over Hephaestion's lower lip, and he slowly began to lean closer to him, and he began to kiss Hephaestion, moving his thumb away only when it became necessary. He kissed him passionately, covering all of Hephaestion's mouth with his own. He took his time, slowly moving, breathing him in as he kissed him. Alexander broke the kiss when he knew that Hephaestion would be breathless, and the truth was, he was breathless too.

Hephaestion stared at Alexander, telling him with his eyes that he wanted him to kiss him again. So that was what Alexander did. He drew himself even closer to Hephaestion and began to kiss him as he had done again. Alexander could not remember ever kissing Hephaestion with so much depth. Never before had he been able to feel each and every shiver that went up his spine, the heat rising in his thighs, or the way that the air around them seemed to disappear, leaving them surrounded by only the heat that was emitted from their bodies. He left Hephaestion's lips, tenderly leaving light kisses on his lips before completely withdrawing. Alexander stared at Hephaestion once more, running his fingers over the line of his jaw, feeling the hair that was beginning to grow there.

Alexander then put his hand on Hephaestion's shoulder and began to slide the chifton away from him. Alexander pushed the chifton away, and then began to kiss Hephaestion's shoulder. As he did he lifted himself up so that he could be slightly over him, making it more comfortable for the both of them. Hephaestion breathed out an euphoric sigh as Alexander ran his tongue over his flesh, kissing it only after doing so. He sucked lightly at the flesh. Hephaestion tilted his head back, his eyes rolling back slightly, as Alexander began to kiss his neck, just behind the ear. The weakest part of his body was there it seemed, and Alexander could make him do anything if he kissed him there.

"Ah," Hephaestion gasped out in a faint whisper as Alexander kissed him there again. As he did he ran his lower chest against Hephaestion's. The contact drove Hephaestion all the wilder. Alexander licked the back of Hephaestion's earlobe and then began to kiss him there as well. It made Hephaestion gasp again, and he quivered under him. Alexander began to pull the rest of Hephaestion's clothing away as he brought his lips back to Hephaestion's. Hephaestion put a hand on Alexander's back, digging his fingers lightly in as Alexander sucked at the center of his throat. He then moved to his chest. Hephaestion put a hand in Alexander's hair and held him as Alexander kissed his chest. The lower Alexander got the more that he wanted to reach out for him. Alexander slid up Hephaestion's chest, brushing his lips against his again, his hair touching Hephaestion's chest here and there.

"Just feel it," Alexander whispered against his lips, telling Hephaestion that tonight was only for him. He didn't have to do anything for Alexander. This was enough for him. As he moved to the side of Hephaestion's neck, working his way back to that one spot that drove Hephaestion wild, he slid his hand down Hephaestion's chest. He made sure to touch him only lightly, teasing him, but at the same time bringing him great pleasure. His hand slid down to his thigh, which had become the warmest part of Hephaestion's body. Just as he began to suck at the spot behind his ear he ran his hand over Hephaestion's hardened length.

Hephaestion was breathless, trying to inhale, but he couldn't. He was surrounded with pleasure as Alexander slowly moved his hand around him. At first he was just stroking him, but he then lightly began to move each finger, lightly bringing Hephaestion to a new level of gratification. Slowly he went back down Hephaestion's chest, leaving a trail of warm kisses in his absence, his hair gliding over the rippling muscles. Alexander wrapped his mouth around Hephaestion's length, and moved his hand to Hephaestion's sacs. He had the other hand on Hephaestion's chest, rubbing him, and eventually entwining his fingers with Hephaestion's for he'd grabbed his hand. At the same time Hephaestion let out another soft breath as Alexander folded his tongue around him and then slid it up the length of his erection.

It was blissful and it was like nothing he'd ever felt before. He felt himself reaching his climax, and he squeezed Alexander's hand to let him know. Alexander didn't leave him though. Instead he stroked Hephaestion's hand with his thumb, relaxing him. Alexander massaged his sacs in his hand, and at the same time did the trick with his tongue again. It was then that Hephaestion could no longer stop himself from crying out Alexander's name in a breathless outcry. Alexander took all of him in though, still licking and lapping at Hephaestion.

Hephaestion sunk down, breathing helplessly. Alexander rested above him then, kissing his chest, licking at his hardened nipples. Hephaestion met Alexander's lips when he lifted his head and kissed him passionately. His head was back to spinning and he didn't know if it was because of the act of what they had just done or if it was the poison. It didn't matter though, because he had Alexander. Alexander continued to kiss him, everywhere that he could, and Hephaestion let him. He let out another breath of air, trying not to fall back to sleep, but if he wasn't exhausted he now definitely was. Alexander didn't mind at all, he understood. He whispered for Hephaestion to turn over onto his chest and Hephaestion did it without asking why. Alexander began to massage his back, making sure that he did it lightly, and he knew that it would cause him to fall asleep.

When he thought that Hephaestion was asleep he lay back down next to him. But Hephaestion was not yet asleep. He lifted himself up and put his head on Alexander's chest. He then lay back down on his stomach, Alexander's arms holding him close and keeping him safe, and he then fell asleep. Alexander held him for some time before he pulled a blanket over the both of them. He too then slowly drifted into the land of sleep.

0

0

0

His eyes opened and he glanced over at Bagoas. The Persian was standing, mixing another salve. Cassander was sick of salves. In the last hour Bagoas had come in at least four times to rub some new salve over each and every one of his cuts. He thought that it would be better if Bagoas just poured the ingredients into the tub, then he could just lay in the salve. Most of his flesh needed to be covered, so it would be rather practical. He rolled his eyes and slowly turned his head to the side. At least his tongue didn't hurt anymore.

"One more," Bagoas said as he came closer to the bed. Cassander sighed and sat up, pushing the blanket away from his body. Once again he had to pull his robe open, exposing all of his body to the Persian. It wasn't shyness that made him turn red. It was the humiliation of seeing his mutilated body. Bagoas didn't seem to mind though. The Macedonian couldn't know that Bagoas found the wounds rather attractive really. But Bagoas didn't blush, didn't speak, so how could Cassander have known?

"Do they teach all Persian eunuchs these skills," Cassander asked. He gritted his teeth as Bagoas touched his chest. Glancing down he saw the burn marks of the candle wax, and the red swollen flesh that had been torn back. It was enough to make him want to vomit. So he found himself throwing his head back and pressing the back of his head against the pillow. If he thought that his cheek and tongue hurt, he would think of this, and the rest of the pain would be numb. However, his cheek was still the worst wound on his entire body.

"No," Bagoas answered, knowing that Cassander had meant to insult him. He was rather used to it. Cassander had a way of insulting everyone. Yet Bagoas knew enough to know that his insults were a way that he protected himself. Just as Bagoas would let his eyes drift to the ground and stand in silence. This one would look you in the eyes and tell you what he thought of you. It was an interesting idea, but it seemed to work for him. It had kept him alive this long.

"How hard are you going to jab your fingers in there?"

"I'm not even touching it," Bagoas said. In all truth he had stopped putting the salve on his chest just moments before Cassander had asked. What he felt now was just the salve upon his skin. This one would burn a little, maybe leave a tingling feeling, but would help the new skin grow faster. The wound would heal faster this way. It still amazed him how these western civilizations didn't know anything about medicine. This was perhaps why they killed the men in their legions that were badly injured, because they didn't know what to do. Bagoas had seen some of the men that Alexander's doctors had ordered to die a swift death by the break of the neck. Bagoas could have saved many of them.

"It feels like it."

"Well," Bagoas said as he took a wet cloth and draped it over the cut on his chest. He didn't say anything else. Instead he stood and took the remaining salve back to the dresser. He set the bowl down and then glanced over at Cassander. It was hard to understand him. This was a man that ran from a pain that wasn't inflicted by a sword. It was from something else, an emotion wound that ran deeper than all of the others. Bagoas thought for a moment, and wondered why it was that Hephaestion was the man that seemed to hold both Cassander and Alexander together. He had be near Ptolemy during the feast a few nights ago, and once drunk, Ptolemy told of how the son of Zeus had fallen hard for the son of Aphrodite.

Bagoas did not know much about the Greek divinities. He couldn't even begin to name them all either. But he knew that Zeus was the supreme ruler of the Greek gods. It was also apparent to him that Aphrodite was their goddess of love and beauty. Bagoas had heard that Alexander thought that he was the son of Zeus. But it was not true, at least Bagoas didn't believe it, because he felt like a mortal would. There was far too much pain for Alexander to be a god. Hephaestion had to soft a heart, too pure a soul, and he could not be the son of a god for this. Gods would envy the extent at which Hephaestion felt. Cassander, on the other hand, might be a god.


	18. Campaigning The End

Title: "The Persian Campaign"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 18, "Campaigning"

A/N: I have to put to rest this one question. While Bagoas does find Cassander attractive, and interesting, he won't peruse him and Cassander will not either. It would be an interesting story though, perhaps one that will be written in the future. For now, we'll get back to this interesting love triangle I've woven. This is the end of this story, and begins with a new rendition of the balcony scene. I've seen so many fics with Alexander and Hephaestion on the balcony…but…Cassander had a balcony too! Yet, alas, the end is a little saddening, for some myths fade away into history.

0

0

0

_One Month Later… _

He put his hand on the ledge of the balcony. The fresh air flowed into his lungs, and already he felt as if he was again back to living. He continued to stare out at Persia. The rich colors and the grand architecture made the city worth looking at. There was no place in the world that looked as rich as this city. He stared out, wondering if it had always looked like this. Of course it hadn't, but oh, look at what it had become. After standing for some time just breathing in the fresh air, blown by the wind, he felt a hand on his lower back. Silently Hephaestion stood beside him, staring out at the same wonder. Hephaestion's cerulean eyes took everything in, as did his darker ones.

There was something perfect about the two of them. They both seemed to see the beauty in this place. But even as they stared at the wonder they heard the sharpening of swords. He watched as the corners of Hephaestion's mouth sunk down into a slight frown. But he didn't frown, instead he only sighed and then reached over and put a hand on Hephaestion's shoulder. It brought the general instant comfort. Hephaestion turned his eyes back to his own. He then tried to smile lightly.

"It won't be so terrible," he whispered to the beautiful blue eyed one. He leaned closer and pressed a small kiss to his lips. After doing so he let go of Hephaestion's shoulder and looked away. Still he had to remember to keep at least some distance. "Did you ask him?"

"We are still leaving," Hephaestion confirmed. He then let out a small breath, looking nervously into the distance. After a moment he then glanced over at Cassander. "Have you ever feared it Cassander?"

"Who hasn't," Cassander asked with a slight laugh. He shook his head for a moment. He then glanced over at Hephaestion and shook his head once more. "No, I've never feared it."

"Why?"

"Because," he said, now slightly frowning. "Everything is up to the Fates, is it not? Well, I suppose that you don't have to believe it. It doesn't matter to me I suppose. You go with your king, you fight, fight the best you can. If you live, then you do the same thing again until Alexander decides to stop. But if you are to die, you didn't fight hard enough. You deserve to die if you aren't fighting for you life hard enough, because if you were, you'd be alive."

"Do you believe that," Hephaestion asked after letting silence begin to come between them. He released a small breath and then glanced over at Cassander. Cassander continued to stare straight, staring out at the Persian Empire that Alexander was already tired of. No, not tired, but he still wanted more. After a moment Cassander nodded.

"Yes." Hephaestion was silent beside him. Quickly he glanced over at him, stared at the beauty of his turned face. His eyes were that of the ocean. His body was molded from the flesh of the gods. He wanted to reach out and touch him, but he refrained. "What can I do to soothe you Hephaestion?"

"Tell me what you think, about this new campaign. Tell me what you think of going farther, searching for the end of the world. Just tell me what you think, something not so depressing. Tell me something that will not make me worry for you throughout my nights."

"You are so lovely when you worry though," Cassander teased. He then glanced over at him, meeting his cerulean eyes completely. Hephaestion wanted an answer, a real one. He wanted an answer that would come from Cassander's soul, not his mind. Cassander put a hand over Hephaestion's and stared at him. "I have never been afraid of dying Hephaestion, but then again, I had nothing in this world to keep me here. I had nothing to care for and protect. Things are different now, for I have you. Hephaestion, when we go to battle, I have already made up my mind how things will be. You shall protect Alexander with your life," this caused Hephaestion to look away, pain in his eyes, but Cassander drew him back to him with his melodic voice. "I know that you will, but how could I ever blame you for doing such? Your heart lies with him, even though it meanders over to me from time to time. This I am content with though. I just want you to know, Hephaestion, that I won't let you fall. I will put every man in my legion in harm's way before I let a sword come close to you. Do you understand? I fear not for myself, but for you, as you fear for Alexander when you should for yourself."

"That," he continued, "is why our army is so strong. We don't fight like our father's before us did. We do not even have the same feelings. They chained their feelings and fought for only themselves when they went to fight. Think about it Hephaestion, how they cared not for the army, but for themselves alone. Not like now, as we follow Alexander, who cares more than Philip ever could have. We care for the goal, whether we want to or not. It is no longer about individuals but about the entirety. That is why we are not beaten. For this, I will not let harm come to you."

"What about the end of the world," Hephaestion said with tears in his eyes. Cassander knew that he'd been with the enthusiastic king of Persia. Hephaestion had been worried about this for two weeks now. Since Alexander had planned it really. Yet now, he was trying to hold back stinging tears, and Cassander finally wrapped his arms around him and held him in a close embrace. Hephaestion gladly threw his arms around him and began to cry freely. "I trust him, I do, but where is this end of the world?"

"Phae," Cassander whispered into his ear, gently stroking his back. "Have you ever thought that there is no end to the world? What if it just keeps going, and going, a temptation to the men like Alexander that came before him and will come after him? It may never end Hephaestion, but some day he will know when to stop. He will know when he can go no further."

"Cass," he cried into his shoulder, smelling the perfumed scent of Cassander's skin as he leaned against him. "I want you to know, that I love you. Cassander –I will always love you."

"I know," Cassander said as he kissed him lightly. He continued to kiss him passionately, sucking on his lower lip, wishing that he could do it every moment for the rest of his life. When the kiss ended he spoke softly to him, his lips brushing against Hephaestion's as he did. "I will never leave you Hephaestion. What I told you, I meant. I will always leave my heart for you. It is yours when you come for it. I'll never refuse you entrance to my heart, nor to my room, nor my tent. If there is anything you need, ever, just tell me. Do you remember what I told you?"

"Yes," Hephaestion said weakly through tears.

"Good," Cassander said as he wiped tears away from Hephaestion's cheek. He then stared at his cerulean eyes for a few moments longer. Then, with a soft smile which Hephaestion returned, he let him go. "Alexander will need you tonight, as much as you need him."

"I wish…I wish there was something I could say. To…to let you know how much I care for you."

"Just come to me some night, many nights from now, and wrap your arms around me when I sleep. That will be enough for me."

0

0

0

Cassander glanced over his shoulder once more. The city of Babylon was fading away from him. Once again, he let his eyes close and for a moment he prayed to the gods. He wanted them to protect Hephaestion for him. He wanted Alexander to conquer what he needed in the snowy lands of Asia, so that he could then come back here. Perhaps he would then return and would again get to spend days alone with Hephaestion as he had here. The myth, he knew however, would not last. Myths faded in the minds of men until they eventually no longer existed. It was bittersweet, knowing this, but riding out despite that.

The same look spread over the men's faces though, Cassander noticed. Already they were tired. They'd just settled in Babylon and already Alexander was taking them further. Further, and further, until the end of the world. Cassander considered the words he'd spoken to Hephaestion. What if the edge of the world did not exist? It didn't matter though, for he'd be riding the rest of his days with Hephaestion, and Alexander. That was really all that mattered. He had nothing to look behind for, no one behind to miss him, and nothing to return to. Yet, for once in his life, he had something to look forward to.

0

0

0

_Autumn, 334 BC … Ecbatana _

He took his clammy hand in his own when there was no one else to sit beside him. He held him tightly, and after a few moments his eyes opened. His head turned and cerulean eyes met his. They were glossy with tears, the edges red, but they still captivated the perfect beauty that the gods had given him. Hephaestion frowned though, when he looked over at the one sitting next to him. He was not displeased to see him, but never before had he seen him crying as he did now. Still frowning, he wasn't sure why Cassander cried, but Cassander cried more than any other man he'd ever seen.

"Shh," Hephaestion soothed him, his voice rasping. Cassander cried more, gripping his hand tighter, and bit his trembling lower lip. Hephaestion pulled Cassander's hand lightly and Cassander without hesitation sunk down. He put his head on Hephaestion's shoulder and wrapped his right arm under his neck. Still, he cried, and again Hephaestion tried to soothe him. He even managed to put an arm on Cassander's back, even though everything in his body was numb, and he hadn't moved for hours.

"Hephaestion," Cassander cried into his shoulder, his tears dampening Hephaestion's hair. He held him even closer, and already he knew. The myth was beginning to fade away. Yet this was a myth that should have never been faded. It was not fair, this world. It was far too cruel. What had Hephaestion ever done to deserve this kind of fate? Cassander could not help but curse the gods, asking them why Hephaestion, when they could have taken him –one that deserved to die. He didn't. Why were they taking their gift to this world away?

"Be strong for me," Hephaestion said, his eyes fluttering shut, then opening again. He felt Cassander's warmth against him, and wanted to savor it. There was nothing that he could do to calm Cassander though. Yet Cassander tried to keep the rest of his tears back, trying not to worry Hephaestion. However, both of them knew what was going on.

"Forgive me," Cassander said, holding his hand, his tears running down his cheeks. Hephaestion frowned again. He didn't know what Cassander was asking forgiveness for. Cassander put a hand on his cheek and then lightly kissed his lips. He left his lips against Hephaestion's, his forehead to the sick man's, and then whispered softly to him. "Forgive me, I have failed you Hephaestion. I couldn't protect you. I couldn't keep you safe, as I said I would. I've failed you Hephaestion."

"But," he replied, raspy, throat burning with pain. "I am your…best failure."

"Of course," Cassander said, smiling at the courage that Hephaestion was showing. He was the one that should have been crying. Yet Cassander could not hold back, not now. He was a wreck, and he wanted Hephaestion to know that he loved him, and that he was distraught. "Hephaestion…I love you."

"I love you," Hephaestion said. The door opened and a doctor entered. Cassander looked over at him, knowing that he would have to leave now if this man was going to help Hephaestion. But he wasn't going to leave Hephaestion without letting him know that he loved him. Cassander leaned down, not caring who was looking, and kissed him deeply. He took his entire mouth with his own, sliding his tongue through the small space of Hephaestion's lips. There, he toyed with him for a moment, feeling the heat between them. Before drawing away he sucked lightly at his lower lip, and pressed more fainter kisses against his swollen lips. Cassander pressed his forehead to Hephaestion's, ran a hand over his hair, then to his cheek. Once again he whispered to him that he loved him, and he then stared into his eyes, and after a few moments left the room. In leaving, he left the myth behind.

He saw Alexander running down the hall, but didn't even try to stop him. Instead he glared at him. Again, Alexander had pushed him away. Yet this time Hephaestion wasn't going to come back to him. He wouldn't even be able to come to Cassander again, as he'd done for the last three months, every night. Cassander watched him pass, then, let his tears flow freely again. Everything from that point on stopped. Time froze until four days later, where when time began to move again, everyone wished that it hadn't. He'd gone from sitting at Hephaestion's side, to standing at his pyre.

Cassander stared at the flames that took his lover. The orange flames danced in his eyes, the feeling of what he really wanted others to see was like these flames. His jaw was tight, and he stood as if the next person to look at him would receive a dagger to the gut. Cassander watched at the flames completely consumed Hephaestion, taking the myth, and leaving Cassander alone in the world. There was hatred in his eyes now, not for Hephaestion, but for the man that stood on the other side of the pyre. He lifted his chin slightly, and Alexander's eyes met with his. It was known then. No other saw the moment that they shared. It wasn't just a moment, but a small revolution, that would change everything that would happen from this day forth.

Flames danced in Cassander's eyes, and tears glistened Alexander's. But both men knew, at that moment, that the thread between them was in the middle now, consumed by flames. The cord was severed. No longer were they going to be friends. For when Alexander looked at Cassander, he knew what his posture and flaming eyes were telling him. It was a war now, between the two of them. Hephaestion, the one that had brought them together, was gone and they were now driven apart.

Cassander tilted his head slightly more, telling Alexander in doing so that he would be the one to cause his death for the neglect he'd inflicted upon Hephaestion. Alexander stared back at him, sadly knowing the look in Cassander's eye. He knew what it meant. Yet, at the same time, he wasn't going to avoid it. Instead, he walked around the pyre, and then made his exit, stopping briefly as Cassander's shoulder. Cassander looked over at him, his eyes still alive with flames, his meaning still evident. Without words spoken, Alexander retreated, leaving Cassander to stare at the swirling flames. Cassander watched as small embers lifted into the sky, and he began to watch the, watching as they rose to meet the stars that Hephaestion had loved so much. Then, for the first time since battle, he felt the weight of the dagger at his side.


End file.
